Hellhound On My Trail
by HemlockStones
Summary: Percy Jackson, Age - 27. Status - Deserted, Pardoned by Olympic Court. Threat Level - Hyper Lethal. Proceed With Caution... He was without a doubt, the very last person that Zoë Nightshade thought she'd ever be sent after. But she couldn't deny, it would be good to see an old friend again.
1. Something Is Different

There comes a point in everyone's life where they stop and look back at what they've done, wondering what thing it is they did to get them into the position they are in at the present time.

Zoë Nightshade reckoned that she'd had a couple dozen of those moments.

She had without a doubt had a strange life. Or lives, she really didn't know how she was supposed to refer to it at this point. There wasn't exactly a manual on resurrection that was for the person who had just been brought back to life.

This is probably because people who have died and come back to life tend not to like to dwell on that in between too much. Or at least, Zoë didn't.

From her birth in the Garden of the Hesperides over two thousand years ago, she had gone from being a naive Hesperide, to a huntress of Artemis, to a Lieutenant of Artemis, to dead, to alive and an agent of Olympus.

At least she could say that she had one hell of a resume.

Plus the job itself wasn't to bad. Despite the fact that Zoë never in her life thought she'd ever described herself as having an actual job, she somewhat enjoyed it. In a reluctant sort of way, anyway. She got a good apartment in New York City, an office on Olympus, and opportunities to travel all over the world when on missions, and the freedom to do the same when she wasn't.

In short, she was a freelance agent for the gods of Olympus with two thousand years of training. Which made her popular, respected, and most of all expensive.

However, the popularity of using her for missions was also what had landed her where she was at the present. In a twin sized white cotton bed, in a hospital, on Olympus, with one of her legs strapped so tightly that she had lost feeling in it a minute after the brace had been put on.

It was a downside of immortality, even when that immortality was no longer at work, that ambrosia functioned far less effectively.

She reached up brushed aside several strands of hair that had fallen into her eyes. Despite the fact that she no longer had the blessing of Artemis, Zoë had not lost any of her beauty in the transition. Her dark brown eyes, long ash colored hair, and copper skin combined with her facial features made her luck as stunning as she always had.

And all of this was aided by her new appearance in terms of age. In the nine years she had been back, she had aged from the physical age of fourteen to twenty three. Not only improving her physique but making it possible to do much of her job with far fewer difficulties.

Though sadly it didn't keep her from practically shattering her leg. Zoë winced as she scooched back in the bed to be in a more upright position. Eventually she managed to move her leg to a point where it no longer caused her pain, and she reached back to adjust the pillows enough to let her stay in that position.

Turning to her left, she reached over and selected a book from a wooden bookcase. Just close enough to the bed for the patient to reach, but not close enough that they could do it with ease.

Flipping through the pages, Zoë's eyes scanned for where she had left off the previous day. Eventually she found it, amidst a block of text that she could have sworn was only put there to discourage readers from going any further.

Taking a deep breath, she let a smile graced her face as she re immersed herself into the novel. Eyes flitting back and forth as she made her way through the text.

Zoë was a fast reader, she always had been even from the first book she had read. Which meant that she was able to make it a whole two pages before someone knocked on the door.

She sighed. _Why._ Was the only word that she bothered to think.

A woman's voice sounded through the door. "Ms. Nightshade, are you decent?"

 _As if it's even possible for me to dress or undress myself with this damn thing on._ Zoë closed the book and placed it back on it's shelf. When she turned her attention to the speaker, she was well versed and polite enough to simply respond as such. "You may come in."

The door opened to reveal a young dryad smartly dressed in the average mortals business sports coat and skirt. She took a step in and stood in the doorway. "Miss Nightshade."

"What is it?" Zoë asked, maintaining her polite tone.

"Lord Zeus and Lady Artemis are here to see you, Miss Nightshade." The dryad responded a little meekly. Zoë guessed that she must have been new.

"I will see them." Zoë responded and thanked the dryad, who hurried off. The former huntress took a moment to make her hair slightly less erratic and straightened out the clothes the hospital had given her. Trying to make the somewhat more modest, though she knew that it was pretty much impossible.

Footsteps sounded from the hall and a twelve year old girl opened the door and stepped into the room. Her long auburn hair fell to her waist and her silver eyes glinted, not for any reason, they just did. Artemis, goddess of the hunt.

She smiled when she Zoë. She walked over to the bed and the two shared a somewhat careful hug.

"Good to see you again, Zoë."

Before she could response, a strong presence filled the room and a middle aged man rounded the doorway. The lights flickered slightly in his presence at the air in the room briefly flared with voltage. Zeus, king of the gods.

Zoë resisted the urge to roll her eyes. _Drama queen._

"My lord." She nodded her head, as she was unable to bow. "My lady."  
"Zoë Nightshade," Zeus said gruffly. "How's the leg?"

"Still somewhat painful, my lord. But it's supposed to be healed in a couple of days."

"Good that's good to hear." Though Zeus didn't sound incredibly compassionate. The lord of the skies dragged a chair over from the wall and Artemis did the same for herself. The two gods sat. "We need to talk to you Nightshade."

"Alright. What about, my lord?" Zoë asked, already certain of the answer

"Your next mission, of course."

Zoë nodded in silence, but inside she was groaning in discomfort. _I wish they would have waited until I was at least out of the hospital and in my own office._

"And what is it, my lord?" She asked.

"A search and retrieval, Nightshade. Not one of your usual types, but you're the most qualified. This man vanished off the face of the earth nearly ten years ago and we've had little to no trace of him until now." Zeus reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and extracted a manilla folder that was far to big to actually have fit in any of the pockets on his person. He held it out for Zoë, who took it but left it shut.

"All the details are in the envelope. If you need anything else, you know the drill." Artemis spoke this time. She hesitated with her next words. "One more thing Zoë, this man...he's someone you know, or used to know. I… you should just read the file."

Zoë frowned. She opened the envelope. Inside was a stack of paper, stapled together at the top left hand corner. She flipped past the first page and her jaw dropped.

The photo was not high quality, taken by someone who only had a narrow opportunity. Most of it was blurry, but the man's face was sharp and clear.

At first she didn't recognize him, but slowly she picked out features on the man's face that stuck out from the scars, beard, and shoulder length wavy hair that even though the photo she could tell was a black darker than her own.

She looked further down on the page, where all the personal info was laid out and read it somewhat disbelievingly.

 _Perseus Jackson_

 _photo taken - March 17th, 2017_

 _Born - August 18th, 1992_

 _Current Age - 27_

 _Last Sighted - Manchester, England_

 _Suspected Location - Marlborough, England_

 _Status - Deserted, Charge Pardoned by Olympic Court_

 _Threat Level - Hyper Lethal_

 _Danger Level - Low-Mid, Expect Difficulties in Cooperation_

 _Fee - To be Discussed Upon Completion_

It was the very last person that Zoë Nightshade ever expected to be sent after.

She looked back up at the two gods. "Perseus, my lord?" She struggled to find the right words. "Why do we...does he need to be brought back like this?"

"All details are in the file, Miss Nightshade." Zeus stood up, Artemis followed quickly though she looked reluctant to leave. "When you're out of here, go to the Olympus Controlled Airfield in New York and take the private jet waiting for you there. Lady Artemis will be on an Iris Message for anything further you wish to discuss."

"Yes, my lord," said Zoë. "but-"

"Good luck, Miss Nightshade." Zeus nodded to her and left the room.

Artemis stayed a moment longer. "I'm sorry Zoë, I wanted to visit you but I couldn't. I'll talk with you when you get to the plane." She waited another moment, as if she had more that she wanted to say. But she decided against it, and followed her father from the room.

Zoë was once again left alone in the room.

She looked back down at the dossier and flipped back and forth through the pages, but she kept coming back to the picture of Perseus. The boy who had without a doubt left an impression on the lives of many including herself, the boy who managed to befriend her before her death from her father, the boy who had changed so much in twelve years that she never would have recognized him if not for the context of the picture.

She opened to the third page and began reading what had been put down, or at least, what wasn't covered by black ink.

- **Line Break** -

"Come on mate, just another pint? I'll drop by and get the money back to you tomorrow, I promise."

Such statements had become what Percy Jackson associated most with Marlborough, England. Not a very flattering association for the country.

The bartender, a tired looking old man with a mustache that would make an Icelandic seal jealous, sighed and for what seemed to the the hundredth time told the desperate man that he could not have another drink. And, that if he continued to bother him, he would have him thrown out. Quite literally.

This did not make the man very happy.

Percy watched from a small table near the back of the room as the drunk hurled himself at the bartender. Attempting to, what Percy could only assume, was a vault over the bar. But instead, the man jumped up and slammed back down onto the top of the wood. Scattering drinks and food with his landing.

The people around him understandable got up and backed away.

"Why you-"

"Son of a bitch!"

"Damn Maniac!"

The drunk tried to continue to make his way over, but was pulled back by the people around him. Now irate for having their drink disturbed.

Percy sighed.

The young man calmly placed the book he was reading on the table, stood up and, punished in his chair. He walked over to the group of people that had managed to draw every single occupants attention off of the football game.

As the melee continued on the floor, Perseus looked at the bartender. "I'll take him outside."

The old man looked strained. "Would you please, Jack?"

Percy reached downward, and one by one removed the men from the rather sad dog pile. At the very bottom, the drunk lay on the ground. Mostly unhurt, but still near unconsciousness. Though it was more from the alcohol than his mild beating.

"Alright lads, that's enough." He said to the men still itching to beat on the idiot who ruined a perfectly mediocre mug of beer. "I'll get him outta here."

"Yeah, and make sure he doesn't come back!" Someone shouted from the other end of the room.

"I'll do my best." Percy appeased him, though the statement was empty. He leaned down and took the man by the shoulders. "Come on, time to go."

Even as the door closed behind him, he could already hear the people inside going back to what they were doing.

Outside, the evening was cool. A light snowfall covered the ground and more fell from the sky. A rare weather occurrence in England. So rare that in some places just three inches of snow and some ice could cancel school for the kids and some work for the adults. Sometimes, even less was required.

He set the man on a bench outside, withdrew his phone and began to dial in the number of the local taxi service.

It was a sign of how his life had turned. Eight years ago, he would have either had to have been very desperate, or incredibly stupid to use a mobile phone. Which was the equivalent for a demigod of shooting off a flare gun. But that wasn't a problem anymore.

Pushing aside old memories, Percy heard as someone picked up the phone.

"Hello, this is Wiltshire Taxi Services. How can we help you." The familiar voice buzzed through the receiver. The voice made Percy perk up slightly, the odds that he would get someone he knew on this call.

"Hey Kate, this is Jack." Percy responded.

"Jack," Her voice took on a happier tone. "I haven't spoken you in ages. How are you, what have you been up to?"

Percy hesitated a moment "Fine," He said, ignoring the second question. Then he glanced over at the drunk.

 _Well, mostly fine._

"You aren't telling me the truth, Jack." She said. "What's up?"

Percy hesitated again. He hated lying to people like Kate. People who were so unapologetic in their good treatment of him. And on top of that, people who had no chance understanding the problems of a demigod. But he had to lie, it wasn't his call to make.

"Nothing," he said at last. "I just need a taxi."

"Oh," She responded, sounding embarrassed for a moment. She cleared her throat. "Of course, Jack. Where do you need it?"

"Just out front of Toolan's bar." No further direction was needed. Everyone in the county knew where Toolan's bar was. It served great beer.  
"Of course," he heard her clacking briefly on a keyboard. "One will be there in about five or ten minutes."

"Thanks Kate." Percy responded, taking another glance at the drunk. Who was, thankfully, still mostly passed out.

"No problem. Goodbye." Percy quickly went to hang up, but before he did she spoke again. "Jack wait!"

He stopped and brought the phone back up. "What is it?"

She paused momentarily on the other line. Percy could almost see the expression on her face as she considered her next words.

"Jack… something's up, I can tell. You've never been the most talkative person, and that's fine, I've respected your privacy. But you've been different recently, more withdrawn, you barely talk to me anymore. Not to mention anyone else." She stopped and took a deep breath. You can trust me Jack, what's going on?"

She waited in silence for him to respond. Percy had practically frozen in the street, the lines in his face locked like a statue. In a couple dozen words she had cut through to him. He knew he had never been incredibly warm to the people he knew now, and he knew they deserved better. And they deserved to know more about him, despite the fact that he couldn't tell them.

He knew Kate would be the one to confront him, she was the most selfless of the people he knew. So he had tried to maintain a bit of a distance from her. But that little distance had turned into a big one and now she was even more worried than before. _Good job Percy, thumbs up, gold star,_ he cursed at himself.

"I can't talk about this now Kate…" he trailed off, wetting his lips which had begun to crack in the cold. He felt guilty. Which probably explained his next words, because under no other circumstance would he have said them. "Listen, let's meet for coffee tomorrow. We can catch up a bit, would eleven work for you?"

"Yeah, sure Jack. That would be nice." Her tone brightened again, though it wasn't quite as jovial as when she began. "I'll see you tomorrow, bye."

"Goodbye."

The phone clicked as it touched down on it's port on the other end. Perseus sighed and slipped his mobile back into his pocket. A few minutes later the cab arrived. With the help of the driver they slid the drunk into the back seat. Using the man's driver's license, Percy told the address to the cabbie and gave him a twenty dollar bill.

The driver took it, knowing it was under what was required, and pulled away from the bar. The car disappeared down the road. Lost in the snow and the thick darkness of the night. Percy turned around and walked up the cement steps into the bar.

Inside, George Toolan was waiting for him. "Any troubles, Jack?" The old man asked anxiously.

Percy sighed softly enough that no one else heard, "Nah, just caught the man a cab and sent him home."

George nodded and smiled slightly. "Thanks for the help, I didn't want that to get ugly."

Percy stopped, turned, and raised an eyebrow tiredly.

"You know what I mean, Jack." George stopped a moment, seeming to sense the young man's mood. He reached out and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Next time you come, the drinks are on the house."

"Well that's… quite generous of you. Thanks Toolan." Percy gave a small salute and walked back to his table. A couple of people tossed glances his way but mostly he was left alone.

He lowered himself back into the chair and picked his book back up. He took a sip of beer, feeling the burning taste as it traveled down his throat, and continued to read.

Percy Jackson smiled, he enjoyed reading.

 **AN:**

 **Greetings people, another story has arisen. No this means nothing in relation to my first project, I will still be updating that around the same frequency. However this story that you have just read will probably have a slower update time, as it is not my primary priority. I will probably be uploading the first, or the first few chapter of some of my other stories in the near future, just to give myself a small library of works on this site. And aside from my primary objective, they will update more slowly, but story popularity may change that. Who knows, I certainly don't, I surprise myself all the time. That's probably not a good thing**

 **Oh an one more thing, for Percy's appearance I kind of imagine him looking like Jim Morrison (Story Picture) except that unlike Morrison, he never got fat. And in this story, Zoe Nightshade looks very similar to Anne Boleyn in The Tudors, just obviously not dressed in those dresses.  
**

 **Until the next chapter, whichever story it may be on, this is Hemlock Stones signing off.**


	2. Good Friends

**Beginning AN:**

 **Ok, like I said before, still not much here so. Go read.**

On Zoë Nightshade's medical file, which was not only quite long but written in a total of five different languages, it said that she was to be formally discharged after two more days in the brace, and on prescribed doses of ambrosia.

She knew herself this because two hours after the gods had left, she had broken into the hotel file's room, hacked into the computer, and read it herself.

And of course she didn't leave it alone.

When she walked out of Olympus' hospital after another thirty minutes, the file simply stated that she had the exact right to do so.  
The clerk at the front desk had been confused, but he brushed it aside. It was on the file, and you try not to engage in an argument with any Olympus agents. Particularly not with ex-son of Apollo, Edward Kenway, and especially not with Zoë Nightshade.

Which is why no one said a word when the ex huntress limped away from the hospital with the possessions that she had been brought in with. Not stopping once in the process.

After what was a frankly painful walk across mount Olympus, Zoë nearly collapsed inside the elevator. She took a moment to steady herself before hitting the button for the ground floor.

It was probably a terrible idea to discharge herself so soon after an injury as serious as the one she had obtained. However, Zoë knew that not only would it do her good to get on with her business and start her next mission, but that if she was forced to remain strapped immobile to that bed any longer she would have ended up nearly killing someone. And she didn't want to hurt the nurse, who she quite liked.

Plus in her bag there was a case full of squares of ambrosia, and two bottles of nectar. And that, by her expectation, would be enough to giver her relief and additional healing until her leg was at least fairly close to healed.

Scratch that, make it a whole bottle and some of a bottle of nectar. Zoë needed a painkiller.

At least the elevator ride wasn't that bad, some time back due to the request of herself and several others, the gods had added a new elevator to the building and given it a better playlist.

During her ride, the machine was playing _Hey Joe_ **,** which believe it or not was a song that Zoë actually quite enjoyed. The guitar was great, and the lyrics told a familiar tale.

The elevator opened and Zoë stepped out into the lobby. The nectar had done it's job which meant that while she still limped, the pain from earlier had lessened a considerable amount.

She walked across the lobby, gaining a couple of strange looks from the surrounding people. But she didn't care. She stood in front of the main desk.

The doorman took a moment to notice her, but when he did he straightened his back and cleared his throat. "Miss Nightshade, how can I help you?"

She leaned in slightly, making sure her words were heard by the an alone. "If any of the hospital staff come down to look for me, I never left Olympus. Don't ask."

The doorman nodded, and returned to dozing in his chair. Satisfied, Zoë left the building.  
She shivered slightly as she stepped out into the open air. Unlike Olympus and the Empire State Building, the open world didn't have a heating system that anyone could control. Aside from the gods that is, but Zoë knew that the gods chose the weather through a process more chaotic than the United States legal system.

Having shed the flimsy hospital gown, Zoë had changed into a set of clothes that she found in the bag she was brought in with. Which unfortunately meant there was a blood stain and a bullet hole in the right leg.

However no one seemed to pay it any notice as she walked through downtown New York. Her apartment was only a few blocks from Olympus so she decided not to get a cab, despite that for her leg it would probably be a good idea.

Even though she was no longer a huntress, she still loved the outdoors. Even when that outdoors was an over crowded and polluted city. But she put up with it, it was what she had at hand.

When she reached her apartment building, she used her keys to unlock the main door, the door from the lobby, the elevator, and finally her apartment.

When someone usually thinks of a company car or apartment, it isn't usually something particularly nice though neither is it something trashy. That was not the case with Zoë. Both her apartment and the car she was granted were very expensive.

The apartment she had was at the top of her building, a corner spot with a beautiful view of the city and central park. And she loved it. It even had it's own room which she was able to convert into a small archery range and armory.

From which on her current visit, she grabbed her standard set of supplies. Bow, arrows, daggers, hatchet, smoke bomb... Then she went to the bedroom, grabbed a two changes of clothes, and a new set for her to switch into right then.

As she changed she stopped and went to a mirror. Running her finger over the new, half inch long scar on her leg. Where a bullet had made contact three days earlier. She sighed, and pulled on a new pair of pants, covering her leg before she thought on it too much longer. It was a day she didn't particularly want to remember.

Then, with her supplies all gathered up, she switched off the lights she had turned on, and left the apartment.  
Getting back in the elevator, she took it all the way down to the sub level garage, where it was marginally warmer than above ground. Walking along the rows of cars, she found hers and threw her stuff in the back seat. Then she walked around to the other side, and got in.

She started the car and exited the garage. Pulling into the notoriously terrible New York traffic.

The clock on her dashboard showed it was 7:57, meaning that soon most of the people in the city would probably be parked and in a building of some sort. Whether it was a fancy restaurant or a sleazy strip club. Either way, it meant easier driving.

She had made it a couple of congested blocks, when the Iris Messaging system that had been built into her car told her that someone was trying to talk to her.

She switched on the audio but disabled video, and let the call came through. And though her business hardly came through that medium, she answered professionally just in case. "Nightshade."

"Hey Zoë." A familiar voice said to her. The ex huntress grinned, Thalia.

"Thalia, what's up?" She asked. Quickly marveling at the phrase that even a few years ago, she never thought she'd say to anyone.

"I should ask you that." Thalia's voice buzzed back to her. "I went to see you at the hospital, and...well, a strange thing had happened, girl." It was her usual combination of care disguised as sass. If Thalia had business cards, that would be the motto printed in large bold letters on the top band. She probably wouldn't win too many free lunches.

"Yes, well… I decided that if I was going to stay in that hospital any longer that I would have to be drugged out of my mind. So I left." Zoë said simply. She knew Thalia would appreciate such an explanation.

"I see. Well, I can't exactly debate the action." She laughed.

"No, no you can't." Zoë agree.

"Anyway, what have you been up to? I haven't talked to you in ages. I'm even beginning to think that you don't love me!" She accused, pretending to sound hurt.

"Oh you know, the usual." Zoë responded. "Sent around the world, told to do jobs in surprisingly inconvenient locations. Most recently I was sent to kill a man in Tunisia, that's how I ended up in the hospital." She shuddered slightly at the memory. A bullet wound in the thigh followed by a prolonged gunfight which ended with Zoë and her target tumbling from the top of a building. "One of his men was a frighteningly good shot. Technically I'm not allowed to tell you about my job you know."

"Oh I know, I just don't care." Thalia responded, honestly. As she always did. "But what are you up to now. Got any plans for the night? I'm boooored."

Zoë shook her head, even though Thalia couldn't see her. "Are you asking me out on a date, Thalia. You know I don't swing that way." She teased her friend. It was an activity she had fully discovered somewhat recently and now was almost worryingly good at it. So she only used it when necessary.

"No!" Thalia barked through the I.M. and Zoë laughed. "No, no, no. Dating my sort-of sister, no! Brain bleach please."

"I don't understand why it horrifies you quite that much." Zoë said, somewhat confused and more than somewhat amused. "I get it's bad, but that bad? I'm kind of offended."

"It's just… think about who my father is, Zoë. The king of incest."

"Ah, I see. In that case it is rather reasonable."

"Uh-huh."

Zoë paused a moment to negotiate a rather difficult section of traffic. Getting across the lanes, she took an exit ramp up onto the bridge and proceeded to leave Manhattan.

"Anyways, be careful about love," said Zoë. "You are a huntress remember, I don't think your commander would take kindly to you chasing after others like a lost lamb."

"Hey! I am not a lost lamb. I am a tiger, with sharpened claws! And besides, that's only because Lady Artemis wanted to bang you for about a thousand years." And then with that, there was silence.

Zoë closed her eyes, trying desperately to get that image out of her head. "Why Thalia? Why did you do that to me?"

"Haha, revenge! Now you know how it feels." Thalia said, in a tone too excited for what was appropriate in such a situation. "Besides, you know it's true."

"Stop making me think about it, Thalia." Zoë snapped, shaking her head and changing lanes. "I really don't want to imagine it, at all." She left the bridge and took a spiral ramp down to street level and started driving north.

"Why, because you hate thinking about having to tell Artemis that you actually are into men after all?" Thalia said between laughs. One of these days, Zoë was going to have a talk with this girl.

However her latest comment had given Zoë quite an opportunity. "I think that's your concern isn't it. So how are you gonna do it? Drag little death breath over and kiss him right in front of her. Maybe give him a ha-"

"Zoë, not cool!" Thalia shouted. "Not cool, not cool, not cool." Now it was Zoë's turn to laugh. Her mirth not showing signs of dying down.

"Come on, Thals. You left yourself wide open for that." She said, trying to appease her probably scarlet faced friend. She made a right turn and took a ramp off of the street and onto the highway.

There was silence for a moment, and then a soft laugh. "OK, yeah. Yeah, I did," Thalia agreed. "But at times like this, I kind of still wish you were a conservative asshole." The two of them found themselves laughing together this time.

Eventually the two calmed down, and Zoë was the first to speak. "I feel the love, Thalia. But in all seriousness, what are you going to do about you and Nico?"

Thalia sighed. "I don't know. I'll probably just have to go up to Artemis and tell her."

"She won't be too happy." Zoë warned.

"No, I know," said Thalia "It's just that… I really love him and we've gotten a lot closer since, well… you know…"

"Yeah I know. Don't worry Thalia. I'm sure it'll work out."

"Thanks, Zoë."

Knowing the mood that was threatening to take over the younger girl, Zoë decided to bring some lightheartedness back to the two of them. "Hey, maybe you could ask Artemis if she'll increase your physical age slightly so you can match. He looks a bit older than you now."

To her delight, she heard Thalia laugh. "Yeah maybe. Then no one will be allowed to question the system any more."

"What system?"

"It's a new one. Deal with it, Zoë and world."  
"

OK then, Thalia. Whatever you want" Zoë said jokingly.  
Thalia suddenly changed the subject. "So what are you doing tonight. You said you were busy. Is it any super secret cool spy stuff?"

Zoë turned the car off of the highway and took a new ramp to get on the road that would take her into the airport. Which had fully come into view. "First of all, Thalia I'm not really a spy. Second of all, yes it is business related."

"Oooh, fill me in! Not... you know, literally."

Zoë hesitated. Unsure of how to respond. "Just a mission." She said, as calmly as she could. Hoping her friend would leave it at that.  
She should have known better. "Well yeah. Duh." Thalia responded, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "I kind of meant, you know, the five W's?"

Zoë took a moment to both curse and praise Thalia's stubbornness. If she wanted to know, she would know. But Zoë wouldn't tell her. And she felt awful about it. _How can I justify not telling her that one of the most important people to her in the world has finally been found after twelve years. She'd be overjoyed._

 _But she'd also demand to know where he was, go over there and at that point I'm seriously concerned about Perseus' safety. Not to mention anyone near him._ She shook her head. No, she couldn't tell her. As much as she deserved to know.

"It's classified." She said.

"Oh come on, Zoë. It's all classified, that's never stopped you from telling me before.

"This time it really, really is though. Sorry, Thalia." She said, a little thickly. But her friend didn't notice.

"Aw, well whatever. I guess it's movies and popcorn tonight for me." She huffed.

"Try, The Third Man. It's great, you really should watch it." Said Zoë.

Thalia groaned. "But that movie is so _old_." She dragged out the last word in perpetual agony.

Zoë frowned. "It's a modern masterpiece of writing. The directing and screenplay is brilliant, and it's often considered one of the greatest movies of all time."

"Eh, there's newer ones." Thalia said indifferently.

"What if I get Nico to ask you to watch it with him?" Zoë asked.

There was silence on the other end. Thalia spoke at last. "Damn you, Zoë."

"One of these days," she said as she pulled into the airport's private parking lot. Opening the gate with her key card. "Alright, now I've got to go. I'll talk to you in… a day, a couple of days. I don't really know, but sometime soon."

"Alright, I'll go enjoy not having to work." Thalia teased. "See you, Zoë."

"Bye." The call disconnected.

Zoë found a parking space not to long from the tube train that led to the airport. She parked the car, locked it, and stepped out. She walked across the parking lot, and took a flight of stairs down underground, where she was lucky enough the squeeze onto a train right before it left.  
It was mostly empty, and Zoë took the seat at the very back. Taking the opportunity to massage her leg. The pain had started to come back, but she knew it would be smarter to save the nectar till she arrived at the airport. Which meant she had fifteen minutes. Unfortunately to make it out of view, the Olympic private lot had to be built a bit of a ways from the airport itself.

In the meantime, she slowly rubbed where the bullet scar was through her pant leg, and silently cursed whichever asshole had designed the glock 30.

- **Line Break** -

Percy lay awake in his bed, his eyes wide open staring up at the ceiling. His window was open, and from outside he could hear the occasional sound of a car driving by in the night. Though why people were still out and driving at one o'clock in the morning, Percy had no idea. A small fan buzzed from where it sat on his desk, oscillating back and forth as if it was saying no.

Percy was imagining asking it questions that a fan would say no to.

 _Do you help keep all my hair in one place?_

 _...no...no…no..._

 _Do you keep my papers in order?_

 _...no...no...no..._

 _Do you help at any time during the winter, you single functioned piece of shit?_

 _...no...no...no…_

 _Do you have three settings?_

 _...no...no...no..._

 _LIAR!_

 _...no...no...no..._

 _You are lying to me._

 _...no...no...no..._

 _I will flip the switch on your back up._

 _...no...no...no…_

 _Then you won't be saying anything anymore._

 _...no...no...n-_

Percy flipped the switch on the back of the fan up.

Not because he actually thought he was having a conversation with the fan, but because he was sick of only having the air cool him down every so often. It isn't usually too hot in England and especially not during the night, but apparently this night was an exception.

Percy knew he had to get some sleep. Yet at the same time he didn't want to. Sleep didn't come easy to him anymore. The youthful bliss of sleep had long since left him, and he no longer looked forward to entering the realm of Morpheus

He would dream of Tartarus. He would dream of war, he would dream of death…

He would dream of her… Her face, her hair, her voice as she talked to him and he could only partially listen. The look she held when…  
Percy's eyes rocketed open as he realized that he had been about to sleep. His heart was beating in his ears and his breathing became quick and sharp. He felt fear.

He laughed quietly to himself, though the amusement in it was grim. He felt fear. Fear of something so trivial that baby's did it before they even knew how to do anything else. It was ridiculous. The man who had fought a god when he was twelve, the man who killed hundreds and even thousands of monsters, the man who led an army, the man who killed a titan, the man who walked through Tartarus, the man who defeated a primordial was scared of falling asleep.

He sighed shakily and continued to stare upwards. He didn't know what to do anymore. At the beginning he tried to ignore it. Tried to pretend he was alright and move in with his life. He traveled around the world. Leaving the U.S. far behind. He went to Spain, to Brazil, to Morocco, to Egypt, to even China, and then back to Europe. Where he lived in France, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, and finally where he was now. In England.

It rained often in England. He was told it did it even more in Ireland, but what he got he enjoyed On day's when it rained he felt a strange mixture of happiness and depression. The sky sure was crying, and it reminded him of what he was. But it also reminded him of who he was. And each day of rain he felt conflicted.

He knew that eventually he'd have to leave England. The life he'd settled here would soon create enough memories that he'd have to leave them behind. He couldn't handle too much remembering anymore. It overloaded his system of emotions. It made him weak.

Percy felt his eyes begin to close themselves. He no longer had the energy to stay awake. The next day was a Saturday. No work, but a lunch with Kate. Who would kill him if he pushed himself any harder.

And with that final thought, he nodded off. Finally achieving sleep for one single important reason. The demigod may have left a lot of things behind, but loyalty to those he cared about was not among them.

 **AN:**

 **And there is the second chapter to this story. For the ten of so of you who are reading it, go crazy.**

 **This chapter was mostly for the purpose of character development. Getting to know what out two main characters are like now. After twelve years or so of change.**

 **Zoë's main passage was all about showing how she acted with other people now, how more suited to the mortal world she was, and how much of a better person she at least has the possibility of being. So she's gone up hill. I won't go too into detail on Percy, but I'll say this. In terms of going uphill? Eh, not so much.**

 **This story will still be my secondary priority. Despite the fact that my third one is a Pertemis story, it will be updated the slowest. Out of the ten of you, three of you or so are probably not too happy with that decision. Sorry, but it's still my decision.**

 **And I believe that raps it up. So until next time, this is Hemlock Stones signing off.**


	3. How It Began

**Pre Story AN:**

 **I am back as promised with another chapter of Hellhound on my Trail. Read, Review, and Revel in the magical wonder that is my mediocre writing style.**

As the breaks of the underground train gripped against it's guiding rail, a squeal emitted from the bottom which caused Zoë to jerk awake in her seat, her eyes wide in surprise. Looking around, she quickly remembered where she was and she blinked the sleep from her eyes.

The few other people that were on the train all grabbed their luggage and started to disembark. Slowly, Zoë straightened herself out, wincing as pain shot through her leg. When it stopped, she reached down to grab her bag and stood up, walking out of the train car.

A dim light greeted her eyes, shining from only a couple ceiling lights. The Olympian controlled train deposited its passengers underground and to get up she needed to take an elevator. Walking over to it, she managed to slip inside before the doors shut on her.

Inside with here was an elderly man, his eyes fixed firmly on the door, and a teenage girl, who looked like she should still be at Camp Half Blood.

The elevator quickly jumped the two floors required to let them exit. The door opened and revealed a private room, the sort of which that usually only security is allowed to get into.

Zoë got a couple of tired waves and greetings as she walked through the room, and she responded to them as such. At the opposite end, she opened the door and held it for the old man and the young girl.

Neither one of them acknowledged her.

When they walked past, her eyes followed them for a moment before she shrugged and stepped out into the mortal part of the airport.

A half dozen familiar smells hit her all at once, strongly enough that she could swear that she had been punched in the face.. She blinked a few times and waited for it to get passed her, and began walking toward the bathroom for the bathroom.

Inside, she grabbed a stall and hurriedly took her partially finished bottle of nectar from the suitcase. The thick, honey like liquid washed over her lips and she sighed in relief as she quickly tested her leg. The usual pain when she put her weight on it was unnoticeable.

She left the room and looked around the airport, looking for the familiar desk that was private to Olympian flyers. It was located at the far south end of the building, and labeled with a large sign that read:

 **Olympic Private Travel**

 **Gold Card Members only**

 **Follow Instructions Given to Reach Your Flight**

The usual woman sat at the desk, staring with intent into a computer as her fingers clacked furiously against the keyboard. She didn't seem to notice Zoë as she approached, so to get her attention, she politely cleared her throat.

The woman looked up. "Oh, hello Miss Nightshade. How can I help you?" Her voice held the politely upbeat tone of desk workers everywhere. Happy, yet a little forced.

"I was told that there was a flight here that was waiting for me." Zoë responded, and the woman turned back to the computer.

"Hmm," she clicked around a few times. "Ah, yes. Here it is. Private Jet, for Zoë Nightshade. Destination of London, England. Scheduled to leave upon arrival of passenger." She turned back to Zoë. "Do you have everything you require, Miss Nightshade?"

"Yes, I do." She answered.

There was a mechanical noise as a slip of paper began to work it's way out of a small printer on the woman's desk. She reached for it and tore it off, handing it to the former huntress. "Here you are, Miss. Now, if you would follow Andrew here, he'll take you to the flight. Have a good day."

"You as well." Zoë dipped her head slightly in goodbye, and turned to walk over to the man that the woman had called Andrew.

People like him were a signature part of all Olympian controlled areas of business in the mortal world. They served as guides and/or security. And while working in the airport, considering all they had to do was guide people through a few hallways, they weren't particularly needed. But it was a job that demigods tok when they finished their training, and the demand for it sometimes made it so that there were more of them than was necessary. However, it wasn't as if Olympus had a limited budget so it wasn't actually a problem.

He was tall, young, and dressed in a black suit. The picture of the Olympian employees in the mortal world. As she reached him, he turned and she followed him through a doorway and down a long corridor. At the end, the took an elevator down a floor and past the security system via a private hidden pathway behind the wall. Out of which they could see, but into which no one could see.

Unlike the mortals, who in order to reach the terminals were forced to take an underground train. They simply walked to an extra wing of the building, that the mortals just knew as the wing where the rich took their private jets from.

Andrew gave Zoë the location and information regarding her flight and left her in the terminal, returning to his post back at the other end of the airport. Now alone, Zoë continued on her way, stopping only to grab an apple from one of the vendors between her and her flight,

Through the window of the gate that bore the number of her flight, she could see the plane stopped and connected to the extendable hallway. Simply waiting for her to arrive and get on board.

There was no check in counter for the private plane. Simply someone waiting for the V.I.P. to get on so they could close the door. That was it. So there was not length process that Zoë had to go through before stepping onto the plane. So that's what she did.

The private plane was small, consisting of a single main room, the cockpit, a bathroom, and a small back room. In other words, it was shaped exactly like a regular lane, just scaled down.

There was a large screen attached to one of the walls at the front of the plane. It was used for communication on the Olympic private jets but could also be used to ease boredom on long flights. As Zoë discovered one day while traveling to Romania with a fellow agent, who was a huge fan of Firefly, and had managed to get Zoë on board as well.

When Zoë got in the plane, the door was closed behind her and the pilots entered the cockpit and prepared to take off. Aside from those necessary to operate the plane, there was no other staff on board. If Zoë wanted to, she'd have to get her own mini bottles.

She put her bags on one of the mildly uncomfortable armless couches that were attached to the wall of the plane. Than she took a seat in the considerably more comfortable chair that faced the large screen. Though she knew it wasn't the smartest thing she ever did, Zoë did not bother to buckle herself to the seat. She had flown enough times and gotten used to the turbulence that came with it, that she felt perfectly safe at any point on the plane. Plus she knew she'd probably get up as soon as they were somewhat level to grab something to drink. Her throat was nearly parched.

The plane began to rumble as the two twin engines on the wings roared to life and the plane began to slowly move backwards. It then turned, straightened out, hit the runway, and took off.

Once in the air, Zoë stood up from the seat and went to the back of the plane. In the back section there was a small refrigerator, several cabinets, a freezer, and some dishes. Uninterested in food, she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

She twisted open the top and took a long sip. Only now realizing how long it had been since she remembered to drink anything except the ambrosia. Using the water to wet her lips, she relieved them from the feeling of dryness that the cold New York air had brought to them. She took the bottle back to her seat and waited for contact from Olympus.

Not long passed before the familiar jingle of an incoming contact came from the screen. Jerking back up from the state of half sleep that she had fallen into, she grabbed a remote that was attached to the bottom of her seat and accepted the call.

The screen flashed to life and a face appeared on the monitor.

Artemis smiled lightly at her over the call. "Zoë."

Zoë bowed her head slightly. "Hello, Lady Artemis."

The goddess shook her head. "Honestly Zoë, you don't have to bother with the formalities. We've been friends for years and years."

Thalia's words from earlier bobbed back up in her mind and she scrambled to kick them back down relentlessly. "Of course, Artemis." She inwardly praised herself by not doing the timeless mistake of forgetting to address someone differently after they ask you to.

"Another thing, Zoë. When we told you about your next mission, we didn't mean you had to leave the hospital that instant. You're still hurt."

"I can manage. I just got sick of lying, strapped to the damn bed."

Artemis chuckled. "Yes, I can see you you would. Thalia came to see you earlier, after you had left."

Zoë noded. "I know, I talked to her on the way here. She seems to be doing well. Probably because you gave her a break?"

"I thought that she could use one," sair Artemis. "She's been getting anxious really easily lately, because of...well, because of Perseus."

"Yeah. They were really close, weren't they." Despite the fact that Thalia had told her such many times, she still felt the need to confirm.

"Yes." Artemis voice turned melancholy. "Close as brother and sister. If I didn't know better, I would have sworn that they were such. They hardly left each other's side towards the end. Especially after what happened to Annabeth."

Zoë's eyes widened. She hadn't heard anything about this before. Thalia had never mentioned anything about Annabeth whenever they had talked. And looking back, she was amazed and ashamed at herself that she never noticed that. "Annabeth? What happened with Annabeth?" She never really saw or knew the girl, but she knew that she was close to both Thalia and Perseus. Especially Perseus.

It was Artemis' turn to look surprised. "You didn't ever know?"  
"No." Zoë shook her head. "No, I just assumed when Perseus left that she had gone to search for him. Thalia never told me anything, and neither did anyone else." The last part was somewhat accusatory.

Artemis sighed. Suddenly she looked different. Older, more tired. It was a transformation that only immortals ever experienced. When they truly wore their hearts on their sleeves. "I...well… I should probably tell you everything."

- **Line Break** -

The second Giant war ended in the year 2010. Percy Jackson was seventeen years old, as were some of his fellow combatants. However, age aside, the Olympians won. A son of Hephaestus named Leo Valdez was forced to sacrifice himself to defeat Gaea, but however later returned to the mortal world. Bringing back Zoë's half sister, Calypso, with him.

The seven heroes as well as the other demigods who fought in the war, returned to their respective camps to live out life. Percy and Annabeth went to the mortal world to finish high school and then to attend college in New Rome. Among them were many of their friends, Jason Grace, Piper McLean, Hazel Levesque, etc.

The first couple of years were normal enough. They completed their first few two of college. Achieving the level of degree that allowed them to get many decent jobs, though not the best in the world.

Eventually things began to change. Ever so slightly though, not majorly. Though Annabeth was lucky enough to get through Tartarus without any major permanent effects, Percy was not so lucky. He began to experience insomnia first, than it was depression. He became more reserved, more angry. He would lash out at people over the smallest things and adopted several strange O.C.D.-esque traits.

His friends remained supportive to him, and Percy was smart enough to realize what was going on. He would try his best to keep himself in line and apologize whenever he wasn't able to. But that didn't mean anything was improving. Eventually it got worse and Percy began to become more withdrawn. Then he started making some stupid choices. Really, really, stupid choices.

To escape from himself, he turned to another source. He began getting involved with drugs. Specifics are hazy, but from what Olympus could tell it was about as bad as one could imagine. He started to bring shady people into his life, people that put those he knew in danger. people that put his own life in danger as well.

At first he was able to keep it a secret. No one knew, he set up secret meetings. No one knew with who, where, or when. And until much later, people didn't even know it was happening.

Annabeth eventually caught on. And when she found out, she began to try and find out what was going on. Eventually, she was so concerned for his life that she threw herself in the middle of it and tried to break off all connections that he had with those people. Figuring out who they were and asking them to meet her so she could confront them. Perhaps she even wanted to kill them.

All that Olympus ever knew was that when Percy found her, she was lying on the floor of their apartment, strangled to death and beaten.

Some people turned their backs on him, some people blamed him for the death, but most stood by him. Insults were thrown and Percy in public and many of his possessions were vandalized, but he was defended by the rest of those he knew. They tried to cheer him up, tried to get him back to normal, tried to assure him that it wasn't his fault. But no matter what others did, he blamed and hated himself

He cut off all connections with the mortal world. Few people saw him after that. Most of his time was spent with Thalia, who was granted temporary leave from the hunt in order to grieve. Eventually it must have been to much, because one day when his cousin Nico went to see him at his home, he found that it had been cleared out and Percy was gone. He didn't leave anything, not even a note.

No one saw him after that. Search parties were sent. The hunt got involved after a while. But after a year with no results, and an increase in average monster population in the U.S., people were recalled and though it was hard to do, the search was temporarily terminated.

The monster population boom, now know as the Summer Rising, was short and minor. It was caused by an incorrect procedure in the closing of the doors of death. Leaving a small gap in the protected closure that allowed some monsters to get out. However, due to the lack of any leader or organization in the rising, after a month, the monsters were quelled and the doors were shut. It wasn't a big deal and the re were little to no casualties, so the incident was just brushed aside.

However, the opening allowed for some good to happen. A small number of people in the mythological world who died too soon in recent years made their way out. Some on purpose, and some accidentally were swept along in the current from the afterlife. Zoë Nightshade was one of the first t escape, seeing the opportunity immediately and taking advantage of it. Others included Michael Yew as well as, to Nico's utter joy, Bianca Di Angelo. Who Hades helped escape in the confusion during the final battle.

Since then, Olympus did it's best to return things to normal after the disappearance of one of the most notable and popular Demigods in the past several centuries. They spread their power into the mortal world. Not taking over, simply giving themselves a stronger base and a more powerful center. Agents were a creation in this time. Powerful demigods and other members of mythology who were the top level operatives in the Olympic structure.

Zoë Nightshade was a member of the first trained to be one. Her squad were now at the top of the ladder, with only one of the dying a few years into professional work. They were popular people among all levels, the job not only trained them to be lethal, it trained them to be diplomatic, charismatic, and easy to like as well.

It was boring for number of years, without any major events happening until 2017. Two major things happened on this year. First, in early January, a monster attack in Buffalo, New York spurred Olympus into action. Preparing for another monster uprising, which hit them in more fully two months later. They are still dealing with in full force two years later. This one, which has not been dubbed with a name, was more organized than the previous one, and so far has been kept a secret with few people knowing of it's severity to decrease any possibility of worry or panic. The Doors of Death were not the problem, and Olympus is now worrying that they are on the brink of another war. This time with an unknown enemy.

But that wasn't all. The second event occurred months after that, when agent Kim Philby struck gold, and saw Percy Jackson while on holiday in England.

The picture he took was kept secret by the gods for two years, while they traced Percy's location to an exact point. They checked his history and were able to build at least a rough timeline of events up until that point. Then, once they were satisfied, they crafted the mission, readied the dossier, and went to one of the few people who Percy was known to not have any negative emotion towards. Zoë Nightshade. The former huntress who he respected, and mourned.

She was then given a mission, and sent to England to retrieve the most powerful demigod alive. And now, the necessity of it made it a priority that could not wait.

 **AN:**

 **OK. I'm going to go ahead and apologize now for this chapter.** **Zoë was supposed to confront Percy at the end of it, but I decided that it was way to long to be a legitimate chapter so I turned it into two. I'll try to update the next one soon so that part will be out there, but until then enjoy this chapter.  
**

 **I hope you all are satisfied with my back story, which is mostly what this chapter ended up being for. I knew the 'Percy get's betrayed' stries are popular, yet usually tiresome and poorly written so I didn't take that approach. This time, Percy is unable to stay due to his grief and leave because of that. Which isn't entirely original in it's own right but is more so , plus the story will get fairly different as it goes on. Maybe I'll even make a sequel afterwords. Who knows, I'm liking this one.**

 **I'll try to update The Picture of Perseus Gray sometime soon, but like i have said I'm still unsure of where exactly I want to go with that one so it may wait awhile. And for that, I apologize.**

 **Until next time, this is Hemlock Stones signing off.**


	4. Woke Up This Morning

**AN:**

 **Hello, greetings, I am back on this story. Apologies it took so long, I was determined to finish this entire chapter and get to the part where Zoe and Percy finally meet again, but then I looked t the chapter and it was over six thousand words long, so I've had to split it into two parts. Sorry about that, I hope you enjoy what I've put up.**

Zoë sat in her chair, not moving a muscle. Her head was in her hands, and she massaged her temples as she processed the information given. Many emotions clogged her brain. Confusion, as to why she wasn't told before. Fear, which came from her overwhelmingly clear understanding of their current position. Anger, aimed at whatever being they were up against, for once again putting thousands of lives in mortal danger.

But most of all, she felt an emotion that had a much more narrow target. Sorrow, for Perseus. For What he had gone through, and what he must have been going through at the present time.

She had zoned out slightly. Her job was going to e harder than she thought. Bringing a man back to a world he was just exhausted by years of service, didn't strike her as too hard. But to bring a man, whose back had been broken by tragedy back to a world that caused that pain. She couldn't imagine how to convince him, and she wouldn't, she couldn't force him to come back. She just wouldn't be able to.

Artemis was speaking to her. "I'm sorry we couldn't tell you, Zoë. My father ordered me not to until you needed to know. He's going mad with worry about this."

"No, no, I understand that," Zoë raised her head up slightly, telling a white lie. "This just… all got so big. I thought I was just bringing a man back home."

"Zoë, with luck that's all your doing. We may not need him to lead an army. We may not need to have an army. This may just be an increase in monster population, and it will go back down. It's happened before." Artemis voice was soothing as she did tried to ease Zoe's mind. "Let us worry about it for now, you just worry about your job."

Zoë took a deep breath, letting it out rather shakily. It's not everyday someone tells you your job may in fact be an important operation that could turn the tie of a potentially devastating war that no one knows enough about. Or that someone that you hadn't seen for years was probably suffering crippling depression.

But Artemis was half right, she needed to put the first part out of her head for awhile. Especially because telling Perseus the reason why he was needed back would probably not go over very well. He probably wouldn't want to be put in any position that would put any more lives in his hands.

"Alright. Thank you Artemis." The goddess smiled and Zoë returned it, though a bit weakly.

"Now, how about we move on to a less depressing topic." She said, quickly shifting gears. "When you arrive in England, you will not be landing in London. I know that's what you were told but the plan has changed slightly. You will be landing in a small airfield just a twenty minute drive from Marlborough. There's a car rental just next to the airfield. Get something decent but not ridiculous. I know you've read this part in the file but, you've got a hotel prepared in the town. Just tell them your name and you're good to go. We can't afford to leave the plane at the airfield there so you'll have to give us word when you need to be brought back. And then, unfortunately, you'll have to wait awhile."

Zoë nodded. "Alright. So I'll just have to time it."

"I'm sorry. We don't have an alternative. Zeus doesn't think it's safe to just leave untrained demigod personnel out in the world anymore."

"No, it makes sense. It's just going to make it a little inconvenient."

Artemis leaned back in her chair. "Good. Someone here will be in touch when you get back on the plane. The time you spend in England, you will be completely off the grid to make sure you have less of a chance of attracting monsters. If you need to contact anyone for any reason, it will have to be locally with a pay phone."

Zoë nodded. It was a common practice she was used to, however it didn't mean she liked it any more than the other times she'd been told to abide by it.

"Alright. Now, Zoë I suggest you get some sleep. Your leg still needs to heal, and you'll want to be well rested when dealing with the English."

"I will, thank you Artemis." Zoë said.

"Of course, Zoë. I'll talk to you in a couple of days. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

The video switched off, leaving a 'no signal' box to bounce around on the remaining black space. The monitor shut down a moment later.

Zoë shifted for a few moments, wriggling her way further back into the padding. She then reached underneath the seat and pulled the lever that lowered the seat back. Once satisfied, she lay back and shifted up even more till her head was on the top, resting on a pillow.

She rotated so that she was facing the window. They were in the middle of a cloud, the fluffed white material covering them from a angles. The plane shook slightly due to turbulence before settling as they came appeared back in the middle of the blue skies.

She let her eyes fall shut, and her mind wander. Her thoughts, as she expected, drifted back to the what Artemis had told her. About the uprising, about Olympus, about Perseus.

She lingered on him the longest. Once her thoughts hit him, they refused to leave. How was she going to approach him? She didn't know anything about how he might react. Whether he would be angry, or maybe upset to see her. Or if by some miracle he would be happy, but she severely doubted it. However, she hoped.

 _Would he attack me, would he lash out?_ She worried about that. She didn't want to fight him. He had gone through so much and provoking such a response from him just felt wrong to her.

The last thought caused a strong enough response that it derailed her entire train of thought. She chuckled softly, _three years ago I would have never expected to feel such sorrow for a man._ Her soft laughs turned into a long, tired sigh. _How things have changed._

She stayed awake awhile longer, but the engines of the plane were soft enough to be hypnotic. Her eyelids, though already closed, began to feel heavier and her breathing slowed. She wasn't asleep yet, but she knew that she would be soon.

Her mind hit one more topic on it's way to hibernation. _Where am I going to find Perseus?_ Marlborough wasn't a large town, but it wasn't 'everybody knows everybody' either. The dossier hadn't given her an address, just that he lived on the west end. And it hadn't given her a workplace either. She supposed she'd just have to ask around, though that might be risky. If he somehow found out, he would be well out of there before she got near him.

She also couldn't just wait around to see if he showed up. It would be both futile, and time consuming. Even if she waited at the most frequented place in the town. There was no guarantee he would ever show up.

Her tired mind yelled at her. _Come on, you were a huntress for two thousand years! You're better than this._ And she should have been, but she wasn't able to see a solution. Well… maybe.

 _If he's still using the same name. Then I can just check the phone book._ Zoë never thought she'd be more glad that those ancient, unnecessary weights of paper still existed. And, she hated to make the stereotypical statement, even to herself, but there couldn't be that many Perseus Jacksons in the phone book.

That possibility alone easer her worrying by a considerable amount Even though there was still so much that she had to get past. Though most of it was part of the main issue of 'how would he react?'

But she knew she couldn't really plan for it. She would just have to play it by ear, and adapt best to the situation. With any luck, she would eventually be on his good side, and from there she could possibly convince him to come back.

The plane rocked slightly, and somehow it managed to make the fully grown, veteran huntress, experience an exhaustion that she actually valued. She heard the noises around her grow softer, and the nerves in her body began to dull slightly. Her eyes slid to a different degree of shut, and she let out a long breath as she dropped off to sleep.

Having spent many years flying in a private plane, she didn't know how incredibly lucky she was to be able to actually fall asleep during a plane ride.

* * *

At the same time that Zoë Nightshade fell asleep, Perseus Jackson woke up.

Sunlight streamed through the windows, dulled only by the blinds which he had pulled almost all the way down, at some point in the night. He had already kicked of the blankets so he skipped that step of awakening, and sat up, throwing his legs off the bed. With a few blinks to normalize his vision, he half slid, half pushed himself off the bed and onto his feet.

The floor was cool as he stepped around the bed and to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, he didn't like the sight anymore than he expected to. A bitter face stared back at him through a tangled beard and mess of hair.

The sight angered him. Disgust filled him as he stared into a pair of dead green eyes. His beard had grown wild, his hair was at least manageable, if he washed it and let it dry right. But with the beard he looked crazy and homeless.

There was a razor on the sink to his right, he stared at it, daring it to give him a reason why he shouldn't pick it up.

Ten minutes later, Percy walked out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, and using another one to dry his face. He discarded them and pulled clothes from his dresser, not bothering to even sort through them.

Fully dressed, he left the bedroom and walked down a flight of stairs to the first floor of his house. He had gotten an absolute steal on the place. The previous owner had been in a rush to sell, in desperate need of money. Percy was lucky enough to see the ad the day it was posted, and, as quick as he could, rushed from the apartment he was in at the time and used the money had amassed over a number of years to purchase the building.

No regrets. Well, a few. Specifically the area of the upstairs wall that had been smashed in and nobody had told him.

But it was in the spare bedroom, so he never bothered to get it fixed. It's not like he ever had anybody over.

Thankfully, he had been thinking enough that he remembered to put on a pair of socks, because normally, stepping onto his kitchen floor without them after a night with the windows open, was like stepping onto the frozen pond in A Charlie Brown Christmas.

He pulled a crinkled paper back from a cupboard above the sink, and began the quick yet overly long process of making coffee.

He let it brew as he walked out of the kitchen and to the living room. From which you could still see the former, due to an opening in the wall that was used in place of a dining table. He just set a couple of bar stool under it, and boom, an instant, if small, table.

Without thinking about it, Percy snatched a leather bound book from the top level of a bookcase as he walked past. It was one of his hobbies, while waiting for coffee, to take that book and read one paragraph from anywhere in the book. It was something he picked up from an acquaintance made in Germany. Though, the man was more into things that glittered than any sort of parchment.

This day's paragraph was quite short. In fact it was just one sentence, though it could've meant a thousand different meanings.

 _The penguin croaked at him, and waddled off into the darkness._

Percy frowned, his brow furrowing. And then he shrugged, slipping the book back onto the shelf, between a rare volume about the works of Imhotep, and a slightly less rare copy of _The American's Guide to London: A - Z_. He gave the paragraph no more thought, randomly chosen words don't always make sense.

* * *

Another few hours passed, the clock ticking over and nearing midday, during which Percy drank his coffee, and set about dealing with some bills that were looming dangerously in the foreground of his mind.

It was about at the time that he had finished the second form, that a small private jet touched down at a small airfield just twenty minutes outside the city. It was so small that, to exit the plane, Zoë had to wait for someone to bring over a ladder, because they wouldn't let her just jump off.

She supposed she could have turned into a whole sexist thing, but she knew that it was far from their intention to be that way. Besides, the pilot used it to get down too.

One of the men who worked out on the airfield, drove her across the tarmac and to a bus station. Saving her a considerable amount of time that would have otherwise been spent walking and mumbling curses. It was quite nice of him.

She paid the man a small sum for his inconvenience, and then sat and waited for the bus to arrive. The only bench was metal, and rigid so that it was, of course, incredibly uncomfortable to sit on. But after you'd spent a week in a Romanian political prison, comfort is something you can manage to find in everything.

To bypass the time, Zoë bent down, unzipped her bag, and pulled out a miniature phone book that she had swiped from the man's car when he wasn't looking.

* * *

It was when Percy was cleaning up a slight accident involving a glass of iced water, that Percy got the phone call.

He looked up from his position on the floor, where he was shoving a towel under the oven on order to get the last of the spill, he struggled to his feet, partially because the floor was wet, and partially because the opening between the bottom of the stove and the ground was not very wide.

Walking over to the vibrating box of electronics and coding, Percy realized something. He absolutely hated his ringtone.

He hit respond and brought the phone up to his head. "Hello?" He said

"Hey, Jack."

"Hey, Kate." Percy sat down in one of the chairs around the sitting table. "What's up?"

"I was just realizing, we never actually set a time or place for lunch today." She said, spiritedly as she always was.

"Well, hang on what time is it now?" Perseus pulled the phone away from his ear and tapped the screen. "twelve fifteen, how in the world did that happen…? Does quarter till one work for you?"

"Yes, that should be fine," she said. "I was thinking we could go to Ray's. You know, the place right on down the block from old Toolan's place?"

Percy recalled the building. "Oh yeah, yeah that's a nice place. Been there a couple times. Didn't they used to have live music on the weekends.

"They still do. Or will, after he's finished redoing the stage. But it shouldn't get in the way of getting a cup of coffee." He could practically see her smile, and a small one of his own pulled at the corner of his lips.

"Alright. I'm looking forward to it." He wasn't lying. Which surprised him. These days, lying was about seventy percent of what he did.

"Me too," she paused for a moment on the other end of the line. A faint static trickling in. "Alright, I've got to go, the repair man just got here. Finally going to take a look at my furnace. It won't heat anymore."

"Good thing this happened in the summer. Hopefully it gets fixed."

"I definitely agree," she laughed. "Alright, goodbye, Jack."

"Bye. See you there." Percy put his phone back in his pocket.

He stood up and walked back into the kitchen, and finished wiping up the spill of water from earlier. When he finished, he threw the rag over the handle of the oven and waked to the front door.

Donning a light jacket and a wide brimmed hat, Percy stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind him. He didn't bother to lock it. No one did in the neighborhood. It was a small town, and everybody, especially around here, knew everybody.

His car was parked out on the street since he kept a fencing dummy strapped to a post in the garage. He felt no use in letting certain old habits die. The car door opened with a tug at the handle, and he slid in, turning the key in the ignition.

The guitar whined and settled down into an average purr. He pulled back, careful to avoid his neighbor's saloon car, and drove down the road.

Within minutes he was downtown and looking around. There was a old music shop, and locally owned, nationwide renowned book store just next to it. He planned to duck in there for awhile before going to meet Kate at Ray's. If there was time to spare, he'd walk down the road and stop briefly at the police station and say a quick hello to Morse. He hadn't seen the man in a while, and the inspector was in town visiting from Cambridge. But that thought was for later.

He parked in the parking spaces that went all the way down the middle of High Street. Exiting the car, he quickly looked to his left and right before jogging across the roadway.

The music store was small, but well stocked. Instruments lined the walls, and there were different rooms devoted to records, CD's, and even several recording studios. Which the owner, and Irishman named Gallagher, had let Percy use when he wanted to record any guitar he picked up. It was a small payment for help with an issue involving some stolen items of a similar nature.

Gallagher gave a nod and a hello when Percy walked in, well at least a mass of brown hair on top of a head nodded hello, and the demigod returned it briskly, making sure not to interrupt the man while he was in the middle of what might become a sale.

Stepping around a man coming out of one of the back rooms, Percy's eyes were met with rows and shelves of CD cases.

His eyes fitted around the room, the bookstore could wait till after coffee, he would be in here for quite awhile.

 **AN:**

 **I know I promised you that Zoe and Percy would have a confrontation in this chapter, and they were going to. But, like I said above, the chapter was just way to long to be single chapter so I split it into. I hope you don't hate me, but honestly it doesn't matter. Because if you hate me so much for delaying the story, you'll be back for the next chapter. Probably...**

 **Updates may be a little slower for a bit, I've got a lot of stuff going on, but I promise to get at least one chapter up per week. Maybe more if I have time.**

 **As always, leave a reveiw, tell me what you think, and leave a favorite if you enjoyed it, and of course, follow for more. The next time you see me may be on an entirely new story, but who knows with me.**

 **Until next time, this is Hemlock Stones signing off.**


	5. Damn You, Ray's Cafe

**AN:**

 **Sorry about the new updating schedule, like I said, going to be quite busy. I have shifted this story to be my primary focus, as people seem to like it the most. Hopefully by the end of the chapter, you'll have all gotten the plot advancement you wanted. Soon the story will be moving faster, don't worry.**

Zoë Nightshade rang the bell of, if the book was correct, Percy Jackson's current place of residence. The book had been incredibly helpful, allowing her to find the information she was looking for instantly. Quite glad for the first time, that somehow these old ancient weights of paper were still around, and still had addresses in them. And after she had picked up a rental, which she was relieved to see did not have crank controlled windows, she flipped on the GPS and was able to make it to the house in what was probably record time.

Even with her exceptional hearing, she was unable to hear any sort of notifying sound from inside, she tried the bell one more time with her ear pressed to the door, still nothing. So she knocked. Three hard, sharp knocks in the center of the door.

A couple of people, out walking their dogs gave her a strange look as they passed, but she dismissed it. Marlborough was a small town, people would recognize that they didn't recognize her. After twenty seconds with no answer, she knocked again.

She gave it fifteen seconds that time. And when the time had run out, she looked side to side, to make sure no one was watching, and pulled out a small lock pick, from a set in the inside pocket of her jacket.

Taking a half step closer to the door, she maneuvered her body so that it appeared she was just struggling with an uncooperative key, but immediately abandoned the act. Anyone who lived around there would know that it wasn't her house. So she set off trying to work the lock.

She put one hand on the handle of the door, and turned it slightly to check her progress, and stopped when the handle easily gave way, only halting on her pick.

She remained paused a moment, before she removed the lock pick, and hesitantly tried the door.

It opened just fine. She pushed it inward and stepped in, closing it quickly, but as quietly as she could, behind her.

Looking around the first floor, she had to admit that she was surprised. With all the shit that she had heard happened to him, she doubted that he'd be this well off.

Decent furniture, none of it the new, cheap crap that people bought to save money. There was no T.V., which didn't surprise her too much, certain demigods found it difficult to focus on any electronic screen above a certain size. Something about… well something in it caused certain battle instincts to switch on, and they would become restless. She supposed Percy was one of these demigods.

There was a guitar leaned up in one of the chairs. And once again no expense was taken in its purchase. She wouldn't even remotely claim to be an expert on many things, but to thousand years traveling the world allowed a girl to amass an impressive library of knowledge. And she could tell, that the guitar was a Gibson L - 7, and nothing to be frowned upon.

There were bookshelves filled with books, something that struck Zoë a tad odd. Though she herself had no issues with dyslexia, having overcome it with years of practice, demigods were notoriously riddled with the reading disorder. Making it difficult for them to read anything but Greek. He wouldn't have had the time to power through it to the extent the books implied, it would be a question worth asking.

Considering that the fact of the time of day, Zoë was willing to bet that Percy wasn't in the house, despite what the unlocked door suggested. Many people would say it was a dumb assumption, but in a way Zoë just knew. She began walking around the house, looking for something that might tell her where he went.

Of course she could always wait here for him, she thought this to herself as she climbed the stairs, but she could just as easily go out and see if she could find him, and then come back here later if she didn't. And the thought passed her.

There were only three rooms upstairs, she walked right past the bathroom, there would be nothing in there. She did check the study. There was a small computer on the desk, but it was shut off. She didn't bother with it. There was a bookshelf in the corner, though not as full as the others, and a second table with two chairs on the left side of the room. Nothing on them.

There was a calender on the desk, a large sheet of paper, one for everyday of the month. Zoë smiled slightly, it seemed Percy's forgetfulness hadn't left. She pulled it towards her and sighed, though the smile was still present.

Across the entire pad, written in large penned out letters, were the words: ' _Oh, who remembers?'_

* * *

Ray's Cafe had one of the old fashioned bells that were connected to a wire attached to the top of the door. That way, the owner could hear the bell, and know when people were coming in ahead of time, as opposed to having to wait until they came in and got something to know that they were there.

When one thinks about it, it becomes less of an advancement, as just an annoying alarm. In other words, it was like all alarms.

Both people up by the counter were knw, so Percy didn't bother to talk with them. He got a cup of coffee, a small scone, and walked over to the front window, picking his favorite table. Which may or may not have been his favorite because it had armchairs, and was near the actual, not fake, fireplace. Though it wasn't burning, due to the fact that it wasn't deemed cold enough.

He took a bite of the scone and sipped lightly at the cup of coffee, he was about five minutes early, and simply had to wait for Kate to show up. Although, he knew what kind of coffee she always got…

Percy shrugged and stood up, left his hat and jacket on the arm of the chair, and went to get another cup of coffee.

* * *

Zoë finished with the upstairs, returning as much as she could remember to their original position. She felt guilty about sifting through Perseus' personal belongings without his knowledge and consent. It was something she had done many times before, whether it was in a luxury office, or in an underground bunker, but the fact that these belonged to someone who she knew and knew was a decent man, it didn't quite sit right with her.

Walking back downstairs she continued this train of thought. She tried to justify it by the fact that she was trying to find out where he was, but that didn't work. All that was really happening was she was finding out a bit more about him. He enjoyed reading, one of his favorite authors was Terry Pratchett, another was Alexandre Dumas. He brought in some extra money as a session musician, he wasn't behind on any of his payments, he still forgot things and had to put up reminders, and he for some reason had many different foods that were blue.

But she knew nothing there was going to tell her where he was, she was just going to have to return later. Hang around downtown for a bit, there was nothing else she really could do.

She walked back across the first floor, reorganized the tightly packed recording studio. and went about straightening the main room. She got to the desk, and began making a little clutter, as if someone had absentmindedly placed down most of what was on it.

The top door was stuck open, and wouldn't budge when she tried to shove it shut. Grumbling she pulled it open, ignoring the screaming of the little metal wheels. Her eyes grazed the contents inside, and after just a single second, she was angry enough to flip the entire esk out through the wall. The rage lasted barely five seconds, and after that drowned into sorrow.

On top of a few old pieces of paper was a syringe, and several bottles, their contents hidden inside them. But she was certain she knew what was in them.

Slowly she slid the door back shut, and leaned forward, her palms flat on the desk. Her eyes were closed, and she took a deep, long breath.

When she first met him, he was almost hatefully upbeat compared to her cold harsh personality. She hated to imagine what he was like now, she knew from the beginning he wouldn't be the same. But she didn't think he'd be this different.

She turned around and walked away from the desk Stepping outside she really noticed the difference in temperature. Percy kept his house cold during the day.

She walked down to the street where she parked her car and slid into the seat, closing the door tiredly. All of her energy had vanished seeing the inside of the drawer, and the jetlag from the plane ride fully caught up to her.

That was it, he started the car and drove towards the downtown. She needed a cup of coffee. A very, very good cup of coffee. And perhaps a walk.

* * *

"Hey, Jack."

Percy looked up from his cup and saw Kate walking over to him. Her dark blond hair tied up in summer fashion. Falling down her back.

"Hey Kate, I got your coffee already, I hope you don't mind."

"No not at all," she sat down. "You know what I take, I think everyone does, more or less." She took the cup and sipped at the delicious substance within.

"How's work been going for you. I assume you're still working at the dealership?" He asked.

"Oh yeah, no the telephone thing at the taxi place is just occasional. I've got a friend who works there and occasionally needs time off to take care of a family member. I help him out by filling in."

"I'm surprised they're that lax, most workplaces don't let people do that."

Kate shrugged. "They just seem to want somebody doing the job. Don't seem to care who it is really." She smiled lightly. "And what about you? Work going alright?"

Percy nodded. "It's not bad. Not very interesting, but I've got to make a living somehow. Way I see it, there are plenty of worse jobs than working in a realm of music."

"Have you met any big names?" Kate asked. "Either during a business meeting, or, um, in a recording session?"

Percy shrugged. "Not really. I did meet Tommy Emmanuel once though," he grinned, remembering the Aussie's enthusiasm for music. "He was interesting to talk to. Gave me a few tips on how to play as well."

"It sounds like a nice job," she said, taking another sip of her coffee.

"It's peaceful. It lets me relax."

"But you didn't live here forever. What did you used to do."

Percy paused, disguising it with a sip of his drink. His discretion had improved greatly over the years. "Oh I worked briefly as an an accountant." _Not entirely false._

"An accountant?" She asked, incredulously. A mixture of surprise and amusement on his face. "You were an accountant?"

"Yes I was." Cue sip.

"Like… working with paper and stuff like that."

 _Lots and lots of paper, all different types. All the signatures in the world wouldn't save you if you had lousy paper._ Von Lipwig had said that a long time ago. "Yes. I worked with paper."

"It's just…" She giggled, actually giggled. "I can't imagine you, you know, working a desk job." She covered her mouth to stifle her laughs.

"Well, It wasn't my career of choice." _True._ "But I was could with numbers, and I was a quick learner when it came to the other… aspects of my job. _Also true. At least it was, after he med Lipwig. The man was a master when it came to numbers. And he passed those skills onto Percy. There was no other way he could have acquired a modest fortune so quickly, with… limitations such as he had._

"Still though." Her laughing stopped once she saw his expression. Immediately her eyes widened. "I'm sorry, Jack. I didn't mean to-"  
Percy waved her off and rested his hand on hers. "No, no. It's fine. Don't worry." Her face softened and a slight tint of color rose to her cheeks. "I understand. It is… actually kind of amusing to imagine me working behind a desk that I had to keep clean." He chuckled, to him it was even funnier. Demigods weren't known to be able to sit still.

She laughed lightly with him, and looked relieved. His words had worked to calm her slightly. They both sat in comfortable silence, drinking their respective glasses of nearly 90% caffeine.

* * *

Zoë Nightshade found the downtown of Marlborough to be quaint. s someone who had seen thousands of different towns all over the world in her life, this was a considerable compliment. Especially considering she had once described Constantinople as 'too pretentious to enjoy.'

She enjoyed the mid street parking, on High Street. It as different and convenient for her to walk across the street and to the sidewalk. The downtown extended a ways in either direction. Large for a town with a population under ten thousand.

People were out walking around, enjoying the day. Some were even walking pets down the sidewalk, as if they were on a park trail. Several people nodded politely to her as she made her way along the street. Checking different buildings. Many were restaurants, and Zoë didn't want that much. Others were stores. There was a book store, a fully stocked music store, and several more multi purpose shops. Even a shop that sold nothing but hats.

She almost went in three of them.

There were a couple of pubs and a regular old bar that was no different than one you found in the U.S. She ignored them, places that sold mainly alcohol, tended not to also sell coffee. It was just a fact about the business.

She walked up to a woman sitting at the bus stop. She was dressed casual, and looked perfectly at home in the town, so it was safe to bet she was a residence.

"Excuse me, miss." The young woman looked up at her. Zoë smiled slightly. "Sorry to bother you, but I'm new in this town. Do you know a place you'd suggest for someone to get a really good cup of coffee?" She adopted a light Spanish accent as opposed to her more common American one. People around the world tended to react differently to people from the U.S. than anywhere else.

The young woman nodded. "Most people in town like Ray's Cafe. It's just down the block from here. You'll see it. They have live music every week too," she added meaningfully. "Fridays, I think."

Zoë thanked the woman and walked down the block.

It looked nice, from the outside. It was brick, but not a cheap kind. Dark red and homely. Inside people sat around, some eating, some drinking, some working.

Her eyes ran along the window, and she gasped. On the far corner, two people sat at a low table. She walked a bit closer.

The glass gave off glare from the sun, and her P.O.I. was facing away from her. But she could recognize the shape of the face, the black tangled hair and the beard. She had found Perseus Jackson.

She was so busy thinking that she didn't even take note of the fact that for some reason, a demigod needed to drink coffee.

She bit her lip, trying to make a difficult decision. Perseus had run from the Gods for years, he obviously didn't want to be found. And she would probably have to reason with him to get him to come with her. And she had to be careful.

She could go in and confront him there. But it was a public place, and he was sitting with a woman at the table. The two obviously talking. But if she waited till he got outside, he would probably bolt. And then she'd have no chance of getting to him. If someone could track him down all the way to England, he probably would realize they knew his address, and would not return to his house, and then he'd be gone again.

She could wait till he went back home, but he would be able to see her outside his house. He'd probably lock up everything, ready himself, fight or sneak past her, and then be gone again. This time with more prepared.

She groaned lightly as she leaned up against the building. Out of sight from the building. She took a deep breath, and let it all out slowly, she knew what she had to do. She made her decision.

"Well, not to judge you or anything, but you sound like you've had an interesting life." Kate sat across from the demigod, a smile on her face. Her coffee was in her left hand, now mostly empty. Percy had finished his minutes earlier, the mug sat empty on the table.

Percy spoke before he could stop himself. "You have no idea." His eyes widened and his mouth slammed shut. Apparently in all the years since he was a kid, he hadn't fully learned how to restrain his thoughts from becoming vocalized. Although he probably was no longer nearly as bad as Thalia.

"Jack-"

"No!" Percy growled. Careful to avoid attracting the attention of the rest of the cafe.

Kate gave him an empathetic look, and spoke again. "Look, Jack. We… haven't known each other an incredibly long time, but I can tell with you. You're…" she trailed off. Percy's eyes dared her to continue. "...A very… angry man. You try to hide it, and you to a great job but I can tell. So can Toolan, and Frost. And you're always so… I don't know, passively depressed. Like you act as upbeat as you can, but you never really are."

"Well?" Kate flinched, and Percy immediately felt bad for it. She wasn't doing anything wrong, she was just being a good friend.

"I'm just looking out for you," she said softly. "Talk to me. I'll listen."

Percy stopped a moment. Something made him really want to trust Kate. At least tell her the justs of what happened, no Gods or Demigods. He hadn't really had any real friends in a long time. George Toolan, Rory Gallagher, Von Lipwig, and that bastard Stoolie were as close as it got, and he didn't keep in touch with two of them anymore. Maybe it was time to try again.

Percy may have been filled with grief, but he wasn't depressed. He could see there was a light at the end of the tunnel, however he also knew that the end of the tunnel could just be on fire.

"I… It's a very long story," he rubbed his forehead. "A very long and complicated story."

Kate leaned across the table, resting her hand comfortingly on his shoulder. "I have time to listen. Tell me when you're ready."

Percy shook his head. "No...i mean... I don't know where to start."

"Start from the beginning."

Percy sighed, and met Kate's eyes. "I don't know if I can put it into words…."

"Never been a problem for any of the campers. They all seem to do it just fine. Talk about you from the day you arrived, all the way up until you moved for college. It's like listening to the story of a folk hero some days, and I guess to them that isn't entirely incorrect. Personally, I think it's kind of sweet."

Percy froze. His mind went into a total lock down. Somewhere in the background of his conscious, he could see Kate looking back and forth between something else and him. The voice was familiar, but it sounded older than was right. Like they had aged just enough for their vocals to change, but not so much as to become classified as actually old.

Slowly he turned his head, Kate was still trying to see two things at once. Standing a foot from their table was a woman. A woman who he remembered as a girl, though her age strongly disputed the classification. Her delicate figure was as deceiving as it had always been, small but packed full of enough strength to combat a Titan with half of her energy gone. She wore no silver, only blue and dark black. Dark hair tumbled over her shoulders, complimenting her eyes. Black as the ash from a volcano, the signature trait of all of the daughters of Atlas.

Percy just stared at her. The girl, who was now the woman. Everything in his mind told him she couldn't be here, but she was.

Zoë Nightshade's lips delicately arched into a small, sad smile. "Hey, Percy... It's...It's been a long time."

 **AN:**

 **First of all:**

 **Kate Burgress: Based in looks and partially in name on a character from Peaky Blinders. Nothing else is similar.**

 **George Toolan: Based entirely on the recurring sergeant and partner of D.I. Frost, from A Touch of Frost.**

 **Rory Gallagher: Based in name on the masterful blues rock guitarist. Though in reality, he didn't own a music shop or a record company.**

 **Ray's Cafe: Doesn't actually exist.**

 **Zoe Nightshade: Looks like Anne Boleyn from The Tudors. Just more of a bad ass. And of course she talks differently and acts a bit differently now. She's been living a drastically different life. She died once. She's adjusting to the mortal world. But we'll still see some old habits pop up every now and then. Which of course may cause difficulties between her and Percy.**

 **Percy Jackson: Looks like Jim Morrison at the moment. But after he get's cleaned up, he will look like someone else. Sorry, but that's how I imagine it happening. He spent a lot of time on the company doing illegal work, that's how he's got his money. During that time, he trained to overcome his dyslexia through a process too complicated to bother explaining. He learned a lot of new skills, sharpened his intellect, and also now has more of a sense of style. E.G. he wears cooler clothes, mostly hats and coats.  
He is still a very angry person, also sad, but mostly angry. He'll take a it of that anger out on Zoe for awhile, until the two bond a bit it more. He's a good guy, but full of things that make people seem a lot worse.**

 **Things will escalate in the next two chapters, and the main plot will get on the road. You all will have to wait a bit for your Perzoe action, I apologize, but they aren't two hormonal teenagers anymore, (Zoe essentially was one, because her body was stuck in a teenage stage for ages. I imagine that was partially what made her so moody) They're both adults. It will take them longer to fully develop feelings for each other. But due to their lifestyles, once they do, it may be a bit explosive.**

 **P.S. Quick title note for you all, Zoe is physically 24, Percy is 27. The year is 2019.**

 **P.P.S. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Please review, follow, and favorite if you enjoyed it. And if you didn't... well you know what you can do.**

 **I'll probably also be adding the first chapter to another story soon, but I'll try to keep this one updating quick-ish**

 **And now that the long AN is over, until next time, this is Hemlock Stones signing off.**


	6. Confrontation

**AN:  
**

 **Yeah... I don't really ave anything to say here. Sorry for the short length... not really though. It's still three thousand words.**

Percy Jackson slowly stood up, pushing the chair back slightly as he did so. Zoë didn't move, she stood in one place, watching the scene unfold before her. The mortal sitting across from him looked back and forth between the two, an expression of confusion on her face.

"Jack?" She said hesitantly. _Jack?_

Percy didn't respond. His gaze was still firmly fixed on Zoë, several emotions blurred in the lines of his face. Utter disbelief, confusion, and… hope? He slowly began to inch his way forward, like a man trying to walk with no sense of a floor below him. The rest of the cafe had gone silent.

Percy raised his hand, and pointed a shaking finger at the huntress. "You… you're dead. I-I saw you die!" He stopped, staring at her warily, his eyes were wild, as if expecting an attack at any second.

Zoë took a step forward, Percy shifted his weight to his back leg. She stopped, and shrugged helplessly, not quite sure of what else to do. She shook her head, still smiling a small smile. "Well… I'm here." She spread her arms out slightly. "I'm not dead, Percy."

He stepped forward again, and hesitantly set his arm on her shoulder, still not believing she was really there.

Zoë Nightshade had read many books in her life, many detailing the experience of someone seeing someone alive who they knew for certain was dead. They mostly tended to blow it off after the first sentence. That wasn't how it really worked. It was reality breaking, even in a world of mythology, to see someone you had watched die alive and well before you, when no one was supposed to know where you were.

"You...you're alive." He murmured, softly and she doubted anyone else heard it. "It's really you."

The mortal girl behind him watched the two, her expression was as if she had suddenly understood something she had been wondering the answer to for a long time. But there was something else, when she looked at Zoë, a slight...anger?

Zoë, guiltily, tried not to meet her gaze. She was pretty sure she understood why she felt that way.

Percy took his hand of of her shoulder and slowly lowered it back to his side. He stared at nothing briefly, and she could see, much to her surprise, dozens of thoughts running through his head. Once again showing how different he had become.

Suddenly his gaze hardened and his head whipped back towards her. There was an entirely new expression on his face now, but she didn't have time to see it.

He lunged forward, she tried to step back, expecting him to be attacking. But then she felt a strong pair of arms encircled her as he, much to her and probably his surprise, a quick hug. Then he backed away and walked over to the mortal's table. Pulling his wallet from his side pocket.

He rifled through the money and slapped some down on the table. Then he spoke to the young woman. "Sorry, Kate. This should make up for dragging you down here. I'll talk to you later." Before either Kate or Zoë could protest, he rushed past the huntress and threw open the door to the cafe.

Zoë stood, stunned, where she was a moment, before darting off after him.

She pushed open the door, whipping her head from one side to the other, trying to see where Percy went. Suddenly she felt someone grab her arm, the vice like grip turning her so she was facing the opposite direction. She tried and failed to move, the second person dragging her down the sidewalk. The two turned right and into a small alley. Halfway down she was released, and spun around by her shoulder. Her ashen eyes were met evenly by a pair of sea green. And they were storms of fury.

"What. The hell. Are you doing here?" Percy growled.

Zoë flinched at the tone. She'd been spoken to by far scarier, more frightening people. Or at least she would have sworn she had. The thought of Percy scaring her had never crossed her mind. She was a huntress, with two thousand plus years of experience dealing with all sorts of intimidating and frightening things.

But now? Standing a few feet from a man who she would have been proud to call her friend, she felt fear. She was actually scared of Perseus Jackson. It must have quickly flashed on her face, because Percy's gaze softened a bit, and he removed his crushing hand from her shoulder.

"I was here to find you." She finally said.

"I didn't want to be found," he hissed. "I traveled thousands of miles, not to be found."

"I know, I know," Zoë tried to appease him. "I understand. I heard what happened-" Percy's eyes flashed dangerously "And I am so sorry. But your time abroad is over. You need to come back."

"I need to come back?" Percy echoed. "For what? To be the Olympians lapdog? Lab rat? No, I don't think so, Zoë Nightshade."

"Per-"

"No!. I didn't leave to go on god damn holiday. I left because I was done! I am not going to go back to that life!"

"It's not your call, Perseus," said Zoë, and she slipped in a small white lie. "But It's not mine either. If it was up to me, I'd let you live your life, do what you wanted to do."

"No you wouldn't have." Percy said flatly.

"You need to come back," Zoë continued, bypassing his response. "Everyone wants you back. People miss you, Percy. Your friends, your family." She could tell that struck a chord. "What about Thalia? What about your father? _What about your mother?"_

Now Percy flinched. He looked towards the ground guiltily. Much of the fire that was in him moments ago burned out, turned to smoldering embers. His shoulders slumped tiredly.

"Please, Percy." She whispered softly. She had never been too close the the demigod, but she had gotten to know him. Through what she learned when they met, from what she saw from the sky, from what she had been told by others. She knew he held all of his friends and family closely. Even people like her, who he hadn't known so long.

"I can't." Percy responded at her volume, looking back up at her. There was still anger there, it hadn't gone, but it had been overwhelmed by guilt and grief. "I just can't, Zoë. You should know what it feels like to just know you can't go back to a previous life. Otherwise you wouldn't be here."

Zoë nodded. The two stood next to each other, hesitantly meeting each others gazes. Both had said words that struck bitter chords with the other. At that moment, the two felt much more like old, old friends, who had known each other for years, then two people who had known each other for only two weeks. But their friendship was anything but solid.

"Please don't make me go back. If you were ever my friend, or ever had any sort of respect for me, ever. Please do not make me go back to that life. I left it behind a long time ago."

Listening to the pain in his words, Zoë wanted to leave and return home. Tell them that she couldn't find him, or that he had fought her off and escaped. But as much as she wanted to, she couldn't.

I'm sorry, Percy Jackson," she whispered, and pulled a small pistol from her pocket. Percy just stared in disbelief as she leveled it towards his chest. It was surprisingly difficult to do. She had to overcome a lot in order to keep her hand up. To point the gun at the man, who through all that she had seen and heard, and despite his more recent flaws, had gained more respect from her than any other.

"My orders were to bring you back under any circumstances. Olympus needs you." She swallowed thickly. "You have to come back. Olympus needs you, Percy."

She prayed to any immortal being that she could think of that Percy wouldn't fight back. She couldn't shoot him, and she was pretty sure that he knew it as well, but she hoped somehow the situation would jar him into a different state of mind. It had worked before with different people.

"I told you, I left that life behind. Whatever problems, they are Olympus' business. I have my own business to deal with." In a blur he swing his arm around and slammed the gun out of Zoe's hand. It flew into the wall of the alley, and at the same time she jumped backwards. Out of his reach.

"Good luck, in whatever you are dealing with, but I'm not doing the Olympian's dirty work anymore." Percy began walking from the alley.

Zoë turned as he walked past and grabbed his arm, stopping him from leaving. In a flash he spun around and Zoë gasped in pain as his fist slammed into her chest. She was knocked back a few feet before she collapsed on the ground, trying to fill her lungs with air that wouldn't come. Pain erupted from the point of impact.

Percy spared her one glance, an apology for what he did, and then he continued walking, strolling out of the alleyway and out of her line of sight.

She grit her teeth, trying to block out the pain from her lower chest, and squeezed her eyes shut. She cursed under her breath, and slowly stood up, hand pressed to where he had punched her.

She lifted her shirt slightly, and could already see a bruise starting to form. She wasn't dumb enough to try and touch it.

It was impossible for her to leave the situation as it was, despite the fact that Percy had shown to be even more resistant that she had thought. She hadn't expected him to actually lash out. Not physically, anyway. Though she could only mostly blame him, not entirely.

She'd give him space for a day, and then try again. Approaching him, more indirectly. No matter how smart a person was, an indirect approach often was a way to get on their side.

She picked up her pistol from where it had landed, and slid it back into it's hidden holster. Then she walked from the alleyway, back to where she had parked her rental car. She still hadn't checked into her hotel, and it would probably be a good idea to do so. It looked like she'd be here awhile.

 **Line Break**

Six hours later, Percy Jackson downed yet another cup of beer. The strong stuff that George Toolan kept under lock and key in a private back room at all times, in case some asshole decided to jump the bar and grab a bottle.

He slammed the empty cup back on the bar angrily, and it was slid from his grasp by another hand. He let them take it, as he stared blankly ahead.

 _Gods damn them._ He cursed in the privacy of his head. He always knew that the gods would eventually find him, but he'd hoped they'd leave him alone. Or at least, if they contacted him, that they'd send someone he wouldn't feel terrible about punching in the stomach.

Of course he was glad to see Zoë Nightshade alive and well, he just wasn't glad to see her in England. They had reached a sort of friendship just before she had died, and a vicarious bond through their combined use of Anaklusmos. He still respected her, and to some extent she believed she actually had respect for him, but that didn't mean there wasn't a part of him that despised her from being from _that_ world.

"Another cup for your musings, Jack?" Percy blinked and took the glass gratefully. He nodded to Toolan and drained a good half of it in one go.

George looked at him pitifully. "You know, if you were anyone else, I wouldn't dare give them the amount of this shit I'm giving you, but somehow you've consistently managed to not only avoid blabbering your emotions to everyone around you, but severe alcohol poisoning as well," George raised an eyebrow. "At least, that's what happens to most people."

"I wouldn't qualify myself as people," He took another sip, this one much smaller. "Because I'm not people, you hear?"

"Yes I hear, Jack. And you might want to save that a bit, it's the last I'm giving you for awhile."

Percy started to protest, George stopped him by clapping a hand on his shoulder. "For your own good, Jack." The old man smiled and walked down the bar, to serve a man who Perseus thought looked like he tipped how he probably fucked. Quickly, and poorly.

 **Line Break**

Zoë Nightshade sat on the edge of the bed in her room. She had taken another dose of nectar, and had been waiting for its effect to kick in. The pain in her foot had returned from it's holiday, and she was gripping the bedsheets tightly to cope.

Eventually, she let out a long breath as the pain in her leg faded to almost nothing. Gingerly, she put some of her wait on it, and then all of it. When no pain came, she stood up. The room was a single, large, but not overly so. It was a good hotel, just down a side street from the town center. And from the balcony that her room included, she could see the lighting that came from any downtown on a Saturday night.

Her room was on the fourth floor, but since it was built partially on a hill, she could have jumped from the balcony and rolled to safety on the ground to the right of the terrace.

It was good to know, in case she decided to parkour, for some strange reason.

The bed was mostly taken up by her supplies. Her bag of clothes sat at it's head, below it was a small pouch for weapons. Then her boots, and at the very bottom, her medical supplies and some English Pounds. Which had been supplied to her by a contact that had been placed in the hotel. Though the young woman she had spoken to had managed she'd be leaving to return to the U.S. two hours after they had met. Which had been four hours ago.

That meant once again, Zoë Nightshade was alone, thousands of miles from Olympian controlled land.

Though it wasn't the first time. She had at one point spent six months stranded in Syria during one of the revolutions, and it had been the most dangerous point of her entire life. Including any time spent in the ancient world. At least the ancient world didn't try to rob, kill, indoctrinate, evict, and rape you all at the same time.

Usually it was just one or two.

She sat back down on the bed, and strapped on her boots. She had no plans of going out, but they provided a partial brace for her injured foot and lower leg, and the other just went to balance out the height difference caused by only wearing one of the two.

Sitting back, using her hands to hold her up, she realized that she hadn't eaten nearly all day, and at that point her hunger set in. She had heard that the hotel served a dinner, though it wasn't free. And that it, according to the time, was still going on and would be for another forty five minutes.

She pushed herself off the bed, and walked over to her suitcase. She pulled out a shirt, replacing the one she had been wearing the past twenty four hours. The clean fabric was a pleasant change from the sweat covered shirt from before. No one had told her the forecast that day in England, and she made the mistake of not checking, in case it was incredibly high. The long sleeved shirt was a bad call.

Now more comfortably clothed, she took her wallet from the nightstand and slid it into her pocket. She had refused, the day she was alive for the second time, to ever use a purse unless absolutely necessary. They were awkward, and uncomfortable to carry around, at least to her.

Zoë then walked towards the door, sliding open the deadbolt in order to make it possible to open.

Then she froze, on the other side she heard a noise. And it wasn't the sort that you associated with anything that should be found in a hotel anywhere on earth. And if you heard it in a hotel, and didn't know what it was, you weren't going to have a chance to be ignorant for very long.

With a quick outtake of breath, she sprinted back from the door, using the wall to catapult herself behind the bed.

She had barely landed in safety when the door exploded.

 **AN:**

 **Hopefully all of you waiting to see the confrontation were appeased, though they wont be 'getting it on' as one person told me for awhile now.**

 **Next chapter the villain of this novel will be introduced, and yes, Zoe may run into a lot of trouble. Then, by the chapter after this, the two will be on their way, officially on their adventure. It may not be the fastest paced story you've ever read, but that's because it's not supposed to be. It's supposed to get thievery set up in the beginning so the rest of the story can move without major delay.**

 **Read, Review, Favorite Follow, and I will give you respect. Don't, and I will give you fish, dead fish, in your mailbox, because I know where you live...**

 **Until next time, this is Hemlock Stones signing off**


	7. Another Farewell

**AN:**

 **Yeah, I know, It's been a long time. But once you read this chapter I hope you forgive me. This is longer than I usually write in one chapter, and it took a long time for me to be happy with it.**

 **All the shit kicks off this chapter, and the two will be on their adventure next chapter, and hopefully in their next key location in the one after that. So you have that to look forward to.**

 **Now, peasants, read on.**

Splinters were lying everywhere, colliding with the back wall and bursting into even finer fragments. Wood shavings rained down across the room as a cloud of smoke billowed in.

Zoë felt something heavy land on top of her and unintentionally let out a grunt as the air was expressed from her lungs. Quickly she shifted it off of her, and was relieved to see what it was.

Her weapons bag.

The smoke was thick in the room, obscuring her vision of nearly everything, and causing an alarm to go crazy. She heard several pairs of feet thundering down the hall towards the room.

Then suddenly there was an organic sound, a scream, and all three pairs were cut off.

Her breaths were quick and shallow, quickly noticing the fact she fought to control them and obscure the noise of her respiration. Quickly and as silently as she could, she reached into the weapons bag and withdrew two pistols, no harness or holster. To do that she would have to open another pocket.

With a gun in each hand, she half rolled, half slid herself under the bed. Looking out from beneath, peering into the smoke, searching for the form of some figure. She was completely unaware of what specifically she was looking for, but was completely aware that she had shelved the 'who' file into a drawer marked 'read when not in severe danger of death.

Her heart thudded loudly in her chest, but slowly it began to quiet down as her hearing returned to normal. The wind noise from outside returned, and the ringing sensation mercifully departed.

She could hear footsteps. They were slow. Measured. Someone was taking their time. Then, a few steps into the room, they stopped.

Then they started again. Zoë frowned, no they didn't. Someone else was walking into the room. Except she much rather though it sounded like a something.

She kept a firm gaze out from under the bed, looking in the direction of the door. Though she could hardly see a thing beyond the smoke, which curled hazily and refused to dissipate.

She saw a shape take form out of the cloud, a shadow within the gray. She pointed her gun towards it, but then stopped. Something wasn't right.

The smoke began the be pushed away, something else coming up behind it. The gray was replaced by a black, but the black wasn't solid. It two was some sort of haze, and then in the middle of the shade, a leg stepped forward.

At the end of the leg, was a paw.

Zoë froze. Her breathing stopped, as she immediately ceased any noise that she made. Another paw stepped forward as the beast walked into the room, stepping around the bed.

Her heart had gone from a thud to a constant hammering. A low growl could be heard from the creature, filling in the space between light sniffing. Both guns were grained on the creature, but she didn't want to shoot the beast only to find whatever human there was outside the bed duck under and murder her.

The paws stopped moving. And the stiffening ceased. The growl deepened.

The original pair of footsteps started up again,and a pair of boots made their way into her light of sight. They were slow, measured. The person was not remotely concerned about time, because they had more than enough of it.

The former huntress carefully let out a breath and took in another, refilling her lungs with much needed oxygen.

Then suddenly the bed was gone from over her. On instinct she rolled away to her left, feeling as a massive shape blurred past her and slammed into the wall.

Something barreled into her, sending her rolling across the room, the guns she had flying away from her. With years of practice she bounded up into her feet, just in time to catch a fist flying at her and pray it into the wall. The plaster cracked upon connection.

Turning her head, she looked into black eyes, that belonged to an old man.

The old man she had seen at the airport.

He bared his teeth and wrenched his arm backwards, stumbling as his blow missed Zoe's head. She lunged forwards, striking the man across the jaw, hearing a resounding crack as something snapped. Luckily for her, it wasn't her hand.

Suddenly the man was far away from her, and she grunted in pain as he head struck a wall and a large weight landed on top of her. Something sliced at the back of her shoulder, and she clenched her teeth to keep from screaming. Her elbow shot back and hit something soft. The weight on her lessened and she rolled away.

Back on her feet she looked around on the floor. Her guns were at the opposite end of the room. She took a step towards them, rolling under a swing from the man, but was once again struck by the creature. This time though, she was facing it.

Staring into her eyes was a glowing pair of coals that sat in the middle of a face, that belonged to a gigantic hound. A hound from more than just hell.

She let out a shout as she slammed the dogs head on both sides a s hard as she could. A trick that she had learned as a huntress fighting wolves and hellhounds all her life. The creature stumbled backwards and Zoë kicked at it before diving across the floor to her guns. A hand securely closing around each one.

She shot to her feet, guns blazing as she turned, firing upon her assaulter. The creature darted away, melting into a shadow that billowed around the room. The old man swung around a wall, taking shelter in the bathroom as bullets blazed towards him.

The beast had avoided any hits, but from what she could see, she had nailed the man with three bullets.

Zoë turned and threw open the patio door, ducking behind the wall as several gunshots rang out. The patio door shattered and fell to the ground in a heap of broken glass.

Tossing away one of her guns, of which she'd emptied the clip, she took her knife from the waistline of her jeans, the the place she'd painfully shoved it in her rush to dive under the bead.

Quickly flicking the blood of the blade, she put it in a reverse grip and readied her remaining gun.

The figure she'd been expecting to burst through the door never came. She stood there waiting, crouched against the wall, ready to spring and strike.

Judging the time safe, she took a moment to try and stop her vision from spinning. The quick movement combined with the explosion had left her in a bit of a state. And on top of that, the cut on the back of her shoulder from the beast, the bruises on her leg from the weapons bag, and the cut on her thigh from her own clumsy hand didn't help matters.

When her mind had finally calmed enough to think, she realized something. Despite who she had shot, the hound was still perfectly alright, so why hadn't it attacked yet?

And then with horror, she realized another thing. _Anyone carrying one explosive…_

The brick wall burst outward, showering her with bricks, she gasped in pain and in shock as she saw herself flying towards the edge of the balcony. She tried to grab into the railing but felt it tear away as something heavy hit it behind her. Time seemed to stop, and all she could feel was her own horror as she fell five stories down to the ground, with bricks, shrapnel and a patio chair alongside her.

* * *

"Oh come off it, George. You even said after last time, that the next time I came here, I would drink for free."

"I meant a pint, lad. And I already gave you that." Toolan succeeded in irritating the demigod further by not looking up at him. He just continued to fill a mug for another patron.

"Then make the next one the free one and I'll pay for the earlier one."

George gave him a funny look, yet he was also trying not to smile. "You know, Jack, that doesn't really make much sense if you think about it."

"For god's sake, George Toolan, just give me a god damn drink!"

The old man started to laugh and patted Percy on the shoulder. He went to the back of the bar, and pulled down a bottle of Percy's favorite stuff. Calmly he filled a glass and brought it over to Percy, after returning the bottle to the shelf.

Percy reached out to take it, but George lay his arm back in the bar and held the drink away from him. "Woman, or work, Jack?" He asked.

Percy raised an eyebrow. Sober he would have gotten it, and while he wasn't drunk, he had left sobriety at the last exit and was plowing along ahead of it. "What?"

"Only two reasons would have you drinkin' like this, woman or work?" George met Percy's gaze, and the much younger man sighed. He ran a hand through his hair tiredly. Toolan gave him an empathetic look. Not sympathetic, Percy could already tell, this one was empathetic.

"It was, you know. More one, but some of the other."

"Mostly a woman, but some work. She want a relationship with you then, Jack?" The old man grinned lightly.

Percy smiled, but briefly. "No. It wasn't that kind of woman anyway."

"Your mother, sister, other family?" He asked.

"No, not that either. Just a friend," he paused a moment, and thought about it. "An old friend."

Toolan nodded. "Seen again after a long time. Brings back memories, that sort of thing."  
Percy nodded, his eyes dead, staring at nothing. "I thought she was dead."

Toolan paused in bar cleaning. Leaning forward he rested his hands on the bar. "You once served in the army, didn't you?"

"A sort of army, yes. Three separate ones."

"Did you fight along side this woman?"

Percy sighed, and shrugged . "For a time. We were… in the middle of an operation in the U.S., the end went badly, she ended up dead," Then Percy let out a humorless chuckle. "Well, I thought she did anyway."

There was a clink as something was placed in front of him. He looked up, across from him was a full glass.

"Go on, drink up, Jack." Toolan pointed towards the mug. Eying the demigod over glasses.

Percy thanked up quietly and brought the liquid to his lips, downing it quickly, ignoring the burning in his throat. It was worth it as some of the pain went away.

"Anyway," Percy wiped a sleeve across his mouth. "I left that life behind a long time ago. And seeing her again…" He trailed off.

George put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "She wants you to come back doesn't she?"

Percy nodded.

"Jack, look at me." Percy looked up. Sea green eyes met pale blue. The old man gripped his shoulder tightly. "As long as I've known you, you've been wallowing in the pain of something in your past. Now, I don't know what's happened to you, and I don't claim to understand, but what you're trying to do is push it aside and move on."

Percy looked back down at the bar, but a hand grabbed his chin and moved it back up.

"Sometimes that's not the right course of action, Jack. Sometimes you've got to go back, make things right."

"Why in the world, would I want to go back. All it is is pain." Percy growled.

George Toolan wasn't put off. He stared unblinkingly back at Percy, and in that moment, Percy realized there was much more to Toolan than he realized.

"Because, Jack. When you see an old comrade in arms, you bloody well stick with them. Now, Jack, despite what you seem to believe, and despite what you project on the surface, you're a good man. And a man like you wouldn't make such friends with just anyone. This woman, from what I can understand, is a good woman. And she's asking you to come back."

Percy didn't have a response, he couldn't respond. How would he respond? There was no way to. In a situation like the one he was in, all you're supposed to do is listen.

"Go back with her, Jack." Toolan release his shoulder, and gave him a warm smile. Then, he turned and walked down the bar.

Something told Percy, that George had meant more than one thing by is last sentence.

"Toolan, told you, she's just…" but he trailed off, Georg was already elsewhere.

Percy shook his head and took another drink. But now something was nagging in the back of his mind. Zoë. She had been pleading with him, not asking, pleasing that he return.

Maybe there was a reason or two why he should consider it.

With a heavy heart and a heavy mind, Percy went to take another drink. In the distance he heard a loud boom, followed by a crash. He growled and delayed his drink long enough to curse those stupid enough to get behind the wheel after drinking.

* * *

Everything was black. Pitch black, the kind you get in the middle of the night, deep below the ground in a cave. No texture, no feel, no variety, everything was just black.

Zoë coughed. Every inch of her felt terrible. When going over the edge, she managed to inhale a large quantity of smoke, causing her to enter a coughing fit and become unable to ease her landing. So when the huntress landed upon a parked car, she took the full force of the impact, before bouncing off onto the cement.

Her eyelids fluttered open. Head throbbing she reached her arms up and tried to push herself off the ground.

A gasp of breath escaped her sharply as a searing pain shot through her abdomen. Laying back down she breathed heavily. Several, if not many of her ribs were cracked. Nothing had pierced her lung as she was still breathing ,and the same went for other vital organs, bit god damn did it hurt like hell.

Reaching down, she stared upwards still breathing as she undid her belt. Then she put it between her teeth, and slowly once again tried to sit up.

The pain struck her again, and she bit down hard, screaming into the leather. But she didn't stop, and pushed herself up onto a seated position. She took the belt out of her mouth and fastened it back around her waist, ignoring the protests of her wrist.

Slowly, she reached back and used the car to help her stand. Taking a few hesitant steps, she found that she could walk with only some pain. The pain in her leg had returned somewhat, though it just as easily could be a new wound.

A howling sounded from somewhere in the hotel. Zoë looked back once, and then started forward. Her steps quickening. She didn't exactly know where she was running to, but something told her just to keep going.

And that is what she did.

Three blocks later, she was in the midst of an alley when she collapsed. Her body would not allow her to run any further. She was fit, more so than most mortals and immortals, but a smashed ribcage will do wonders in impeding one's physical ability.

It hurt to breath now, that had changed from earlier. Her lungs felt tight, like they couldn't expand past a partial point.

She was on her knees ,using her arms to keep her from falling over. Blood trickled from a cut she had sustained over her eye, obscuring her vision. Her leg had gotten worse, aching at every joint and the cut stung something horrible.

She closed her eyes. The dog would be near her soon. She was in a distant country, thousands of miles from home, no reinforcements, and her lack of preparation was going to cost her her life.

Something hit her. She shivered. She was going to die. Right there, in England. Not in the current land of the gods, and not even in her home. She would get no burial, no chance for her body to see her homeland again.

Several tears sprung from her eyes and slid down her cheeks. She blinked them away. There was a howl. Close by. She looked up, and saw the dog padding around the corner. It's monstrous head staring at her. Smoke curling off as if on fire.

Slowly she stood up. If she was going to die, she was going to bring something down with her.

A low growl crescendo-ed in the back of the hounds through and with a chilling bark it launched itself at her. Dagger in hand, Zoë took a step and thrust her hand forward.

* * *

A loud bark cut through the air inside George Toolan's tavern, over the sound of the football game, and the mingling conversation throughout the bar.

Some people looked up, some people commented and made a joke, but most people ignored the sound. But Percy Jackson shot up. Knocking over his drink in the process, the liquid spilling over a surprised George Toolan who had taken a seat to have a drink with the young man.

"The bloody hell was that, Jack?" Toolan looked down at the front of his shirt. But Percy wasn't paying attention. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and his heart was beating quickly. Though not yet at the point of pounding.

He let out a breath and murmured a quick prayer to the minor goddess Anoia, who recently had been promoted to goddess of hope, a quite lucrative title in the immortal world.

He turned to Toolan. "George, shut off the game."

Toolan looked at him strangely. "What, Jack-"

"Just do it!" He snapped.

The old man ducked behind the bar, and came back up with a remote. With some difficulty he angled it towards the screen and clicked the button.

As soon as it switched off there was a loud uproar of protest. Percy jumped up onto the bar and brought his foot down heavily on the polished wood.

"Quiet!" He shouted. His voice easily cutting through the rest of the crowd. Everyone turned to him, confusion and expectation in their expressions. Percy looked back at them.

He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off. A pained scream echoed from out in the alley. It was a woman. No, not _a_ woman. _The_ woman.

Some of the more 'heroic' men immediately turned to rush out and save whoever it was, but Percy shouted again.

"Nobody move."

Amazingly everyone listened. Percy hopped down from the bar. Turning to Toolan he addressed him speedily. "George, grab your rifle and guard the back door. Don't let anyone out and don't let anything in. Don't ask any questions. DO NOT!"

Toolan nodded silently and went into the back room. The crowd separated as a man pushed his way to the front.

"What the hell are you doing? Some poor girl's being attacked but there." His face was right in the demigods. His expression twisted in righteous fury. Percy just glared back.  
"I'm getting to that." He said, voice dangerously low. There was a bump as Toolan reemerged with a rifle in hand. He nodded to Percy.

Addressing the crowd, he spoke calmly. "Everybody stay in here." Inside he was panicking. Praying that no one would delay him further. He needed to get out there, now.

No one did. And after one more check, Percy bolted for the door, George Toolan behind him.

The door burst outward as Percy didn't bother to slow down and take the time to turn the handle. The alley was mostly dark, illuminated by a single streetlamp in the back, but he could see a large shape on the ground. Writhing as two figures moved rapidly. One was on top of the other, holding the second down.

The one on top was definitely not Zoë.

Sprinting towards them, he slammed into the top figure shoulder first. The two rolling along the ground. Percy quickly rolled back onto his feet and swung a fist full force towards the figure. He had expected the punch to connect….

...But he hadn't expected it to connect with a dog.

The hound stumbled back, dazed briefly. Percy capitalized, slamming into the creature again, taking it down to the ground. Hearing the air express from its lungs as he crushed it with the impact of his fall.

He rained down punches on the creature. It was all he could do, he had no real weapon. He paused briefly to look back at Zoë.

His heart leapt to his throat when he saw that she hadn't moved. She lay motionless on the ground.

Then he was flying, the dog had kicked him. His head thudded painfully on the ground and white lights exploded in his vision. Blinking away the pain he sat up to see the dog slowly getting to its feet, gingerly holding one leg off the ground. For the first time he saw it clearly.

It was like a hellhound he had ever seen. It wasn't particularly big, but it was streamlined. Back smoke curled off of it and it's eyes were solid green, and glowed like phosphorous.

The strangest part was that it was bleeding. Red blood leaked from dozens of cuts all over it's body, showing that Zoë had at least been somewhat successful, yet any celestial bronze that she had proved to be no better than mortal iron.

He took a step back and felt something under his foot. Maintaining eye contact with the dog he reached down and felt a blade. Zoe's knife. Which must have been knocked away from her in the fight.

Slowly he picked it up.

It was knocked from his hand immediately, the hound lunged. Slamming him back into the wall. Disoriented he stumbled forward, and screamed in pain as he felt an immense weight collapse on his spine.

It brought him to the ground, luckily he had turned his face in tie to avoid a broken nose, but it still hurt like hell. He tried to roll over, and immediately was flattened on his back.

The dog bend down to him, growling. Percy watched in horror as it leaned back and opened it's mouth. And then there was a loud crack.

The dog jerked to the left, stumbling off the demigod. Percy's gaze immediately flew right.

"No!" He shouted. George Toolan took another step forward, firing another shot. ONce again hitting the dog. But it didn't fall. It shook its head, looking confused.

A third shot hit it, this one did barely anything. The dog began to run.

The fourth shot missed, George Toolan was stumbling backwards. Percy was trying to drag himself to his feet. The hound was springing at the old man.

The fifth shot also missed, and Percy screamed as the dog lept.

The sixth shot was fired into the air as the hound brought Toolan to the ground. Blood was flying as the dog savagely tore into the old man's chest, slicing and ripping everything to pieces. His inhuman screams of pain cutting through the night.

And then Percy saw red.

A blur followed next in Percy's mind, he was aware of some pain, stinging as something clawed at his arms, and he was aware of his fist becoming more and more painful. But everything was muffled, as if he was hearing it through a all of cotton

He heard coughing, and then he head a voice. A girls voice.

Then suddenly everything came back to him.

"...P-please…"

His first stopped, hovering in the air. His vision was clear again. Beneath him, there was

no longer a dog. There was a young girl, couldn't have been more that fifteen. Her face was beaten in, one eye swollen shut. Blood flowed from cuts and splits all over her lower face and shoulders. He quickly looked over the girl's, injuries by the dozen dotted every part of her body. He knew this, because she was naked.

All this registered in a single second and his eyes went back to her ace. Her open eye was blue, and tears were leaking from it. She held an arm out protectively, it trembled in the air.

"...Please…" Her voice was weak.

Percy eased his weight off of the girl, he lowered his fist.

And then was aware of a blinding pain below his stomach.

He doubled over, gasping for breath, the girl rolled away, darting in a shadow cast by the building from the lamp, and faded away into the night.

Percy's pain was extreme, but he ignored it. He rushed to his feet and hurried over to another.

George Toolan's face was pale, blood pooled around him. He coughed and more blood bubble up from his throat. Percy pressed the man's jacked against the wound, trying to slow the bleeding. He felt tears prick in his eyes and panicked, trying to think of anything to save his life.

"No, no, no, no, NO! You are not dying on me old man. Don't you fucking dare to die. Don't you die." Percy's voice was frantic. Fear was overwhelming him.

The old man coughed, and smiled weakly. "For-forget me, Jack."

"No, no. George, you're going to be fine," He looked up, some people had come out of the bar.

"Don't just fucking stand there," he screamed. "Get a fucking ambulance!"

"No, J-Jack," George's voice pulled him back down, his voice was weak, he didn't have long left. "Go, the woman. Help her, Jack. Save her. And t-then… let her save you."

"No, Toolan. George, don't you- NO!" The old man's head dropped back, limp in his arms. He let out one last breath, and then was still.

Percy screamed. He screamed and his voice cut out on him.

Tears fell from his eyes as he slowly lay the man down. He folded his arms over his chest and gave it a squeeze.

"Rest in peace, old man." He sniffed, wiping away the tears. George Toolan was at rest. Peaceful in death, as he was in life. Percy would remember him the rest of his life.

"P-Per- Percy…"

A voice, weaker than Toolan's snapped him back into reality.

In an instant he was at Zoe's side. She was on her back, her eyes barely open, fluttering as she tried to stay awake.

"Zoë."

"Please. H-help…" She was unable to finish her sentence, her energy so low, her eyes fully shut. Percy felt her forehead, she was cold. Very cold.

His car was just out on the street, he had everything he needed back at the house, but if that monster came back…

Percy shook his head. He knew what he needed to do. He removed his coat, wrapping it around Zoë, carefully picking her up bridal style. Her lack of weight frightening him to move even faster.

Out on the street, he flung open the door and eased Zoë into the passenger seat. Even with the added layer, she was shivering.

He got in the driver side and turned the key in the ignition. Immediately, he set the heat to high and started to drive off.

He looked back and forth between the road and the huntress. She was huddled in her

seat, curled up in her unconsciousness, and trembling constantly. She looked hurt, confused, but mostly her ace was twisted in a familiar expression, though one he never thought he'd see on her. She was scared.

Reaching over, he took her hands in his, hoping that it would provide her comfort to subconsciously be aware of another human presence, to know she was not alone.

 _You'll be alright Zoë. I swear to gods, you are not going to die tonight._

 **AN:**

 **Wow, so that was an emotional end. Sorry guys, I really didn't want to kill old George, I based the character off of a beloved character from a TV show I grew up with. But his words and his death have given Percy a reason to go with Zoe and fight the threat that is befalling the Greek world.**

 **Those of you wo for some reason are looking forward to some Percy and Zoe conflict before their relationship, do not worry. Despite Percy's obvious concern for Zoe and fear of her death in this chapter, he is not completely alright with her. He's also following George's last command, though the aspect of saving himself won't be explored till later. But Zoe and Percy are going to have a rough relationship for a few days. Though after that, hopefully I will chose to let the relationship be a good one, and soon after that, a much stronger one. Perzoe is not far away.**

 **Thank you for all the support I have been given, It's great to see peopel take an interest in my work. Please, read, rate, review, favorite and follow if you enjoyed it. And if not, go eat a big bowl of spiderwebs.**

 **Next update is completely up for grabs. I have no idea what you should all expect to be updated sooner rather than later, so see you wherever I may pop up.**

 **And now, bidding farewell to you all, this is Hemlock Stones signing off.**


	8. Long Night

**AN:**

 **I have absolutely no real excuse for such a delay. My hand healed quite awhile ago and since then I've been putting off getting back into this as it is somewhat of a time constraint. But why am I irritating you readers before the chapter? Go! Go! Read on!**

He pulled onto his street less than a minute after he had put Zoë in the car. Gliding up against the curb, he threw open the door and rushed into the house. Not bothering to shut the main door behind him.

He grabbed a large suitcase from the main closet by the front door, and set to work on the house. Running into his bathroom, he grabbed a first aid kit. Combination demigod and mortal medicines, he never knew what he could use at any time. Inside one of the compartments,was riptide, sitting in a custom made case for it's pen form.

Next, he grabbed clothes. Not bothering to check anything besides if they were in fact clothes. Throwing in items for at least five or six days, he then grabbed toiletries and rushed from the bedroom.

Then he got to work on the bookshelf. Sliding it away from the wall, he levered up a floorboard, and couched as the dust from underneath rose up to fill his nostrils. He reached down inside and came up with another bag. He shook the dust off before tossing it next to the suitcase. From the bookshelf, he grabbed a couple rare volumes and opened the second bag, throwing them inside. Careful not to crumple up the collection of various paper currencies that were banded up within.

Bags packed he hoisted them up, and started running towards the door, then he stopped. He sighed, and cursed himself, running back inside. In the music room, he took his guitar, packed it in it's thick case and rushed back. All the way violently cursing the way his mind forced him to act.

Each container was thrown in the back, and once fully in, the door slammed shut. He only took one thing from the bag, the ambrosia from the medical kit, which was clenched in his hand. He raced back around and threw open the driver's side door, switched on the ignition, and started off away from the house.

Once he felt like he was far enough away, he slowed the car to a stop. Seat belt already off, he leaned over the center console, and gently pulled Zoë towards him. He heard her breath hitch as even the tiny movement no doubt put strain on her body. Taking the ambrosia, he squeezed it tightly in his hand, and with some satisfaction felt it turn it into a somewhat gooey substance. A trick he had learned over the years, for when the recipient couldn't chew any squares at hand.

He opened her mouth and let the ambrosia drip off his hand. Then he moved his hands to her throat, and with practiced precision, carefully maneuvered his hands along her skin, lightly pressing down.

There was a gulp as she swallowed the liquid. And Percy allowed himself a sigh of relief. Wiping the remaining ambrosia on his pant leg, he put his hands back on the wheel and revved up the engine before speeding off down the road.

He was out of the town within ten minutes. No one else on the road aside from some late night stragglers who either hadn't reached home, or hadn't reached a bar. Perseus ignored them all, maneuvering around cars in front of him, and taking each opportunity he had to launch forward with any extra speed.

His eyes were searching for a specific marker. The world sped past them, only some sections illuminated by the headlights of other cars or his own vehicle, and the shining reflected off the metallic road signs.

He took an exit about half an hour later, pulling off into a small highway town. The sort that was solely in existence because of the highway right next to it, and of little more than a few houses, some fast food restaurants, a gas station, and maybe a cheap little hotel or two.

He looked around for a hotel. It took him a moment, not because he was picky for comfort, but because there was only a certain kind of hotel he could use, and they weren't overly common in England.

Eventually he found what he was looking for, and pulled into the main lot. He parked the car close to the door, took one glance at Zoë to make sure she was still asleep, and then exited the automobile. Straightening up, he adjusted his jacket and stretched his back. Then he shut the door, and walked over the reception office,and stepped in.

The inside smelled faintly of cigarettes, and Percy wrinkled his nose in disgust at the stench. The man lounging behind the main desk looked to be the exact sort of person that would be emitting such a smell. It was with great reluctance that Percy walked towards him.

Percy arrived at the desk, resting his hands underneath the overhang on his side, and leaning forward a few degrees.

The man looked up from his tablet, and settled his eyes shakily on Percy. Once they met his figure, they widened and the man shot up out of his seat. Percy resisted the urge to look down at himself, he probably looked like hammered shit.

The man stammered a bit before regaining his lack of composure. "Um… can I help you… uh… sir?" The questioning tone at the end of his sentence would have caused Percy to laugh if he wasn't in somewhat of a mood.

"Yeah. A room. What do you have got?" Said Percy impatiently, his tone making it very clear that he was in no mood to dick around.

"Um, number 10 is-"

"I'll take it." Percy cut him off, extracting a fistful of cash from his pocket. He slammed it down on the counter and leaned down over it, a hand outstretched for the key.

It was dropped into his palm with commendable speed. The young man stood across from him and gulped. His Adam's apple bobbed in the process. His skin already shone with sweat, and his expression was one of considerable nervousness.

In his mind, Percy chuckled. Von Lipwig had really taught him well. He nodded meaningfully to the man at the desk and walked out of the room, careful to keep a slow pace.

As soon as he was outside, he broke into a run, darting back over to his car and climbing in. He revved the engine and maneuvered the vehicle across the lot, sliding it into an open space directly in front of room ten.

He took Zoë inside first, gently laying her out on the bed, and resting her head at a low angle on the pillow. Then he returned to his car and brought in his supplies. Guitar case was flung into a far corner, as we the clothing bags and supply kit. His first aid kit dropped down on the the bed. He unclipped the latch and flung it over, his fingers nimbly snatching this and that from inside.

The morphine was first. He had managed to obtain a spare supply over the years from a variety of less than reputable sources, but he knew for a fact that the stuff worked wonders. He gave Zoë a small dose, but not too large, he had no idea what her level of tolerance of the stuff could be.

He then set to work. Using a special pair of scissors to remove certain parts of her jeans and shirt to avoid aggravating the wounds. Gauze, medical tape, and cloth were all at his disposal. He wiped up as much of the blood as he could, zeroing in on where the actual injuries were. One done, he proceeded to take care of the external damages. There wasn't too much. Scrapes and bruises that looked like they came from a fall, some more sever cuts made by the creature's claws, and some nasty looking puncture wounds. Each was taken care of. Blocked off and sealed shut to the best of his abilities. He finished off by wrapping a long piece of cloth around a cut that ran down her arm, and fixed it in place so it wouldn't slip off.

He sat down tiredly next to her. She looked considerably better, but Percy knew more than to judge the outside. He had heard her breathing, and the way she had been blinking before she had lost consciousness was not an encouraging factor. At that wasn't to take into account that despite the ambrosia he had given her earlier, she had been shivering and moaning in pain for most of the drive to the hotel. There was significant internal damage, and he couldn't heal that with basic field medic education.

He left her sleeping peacefully and rushed into the bathroom. He spent a minute looking in the cupboards before he cursed. No bucket, no large bowls, nothing. He brought his hand up to his head and closed his head tightly, massaging his temples. He'd have to wait to heal her further.

There was a sound from the main room, and he jumped out from the bath. Zoë was moving slowly, not awake, but not asleep for long. He started to make his way over to her, then stopped. He looked towards one of his cases against the wall. He stopped and thought for a moment, then he turned back to the huntress. He made his decision, and walked over to the bags.

* * *

To Zoë, everything hurt. Actually that was quite not true. It was a strange feeling. She felt cool, a light breeze blowing over her body. A soothing experience after a rough day. Then her nerves fired up and then came the pain. It felt as if someone had poured molten steel in her mouth and now it sat in a pool along the entirety of her torso. Her head ached, and her legs felt numb. Only a slight movement of her right was enough to tell her that they were alright and functioning.

Actually no, if they were alright, she wouldn't be in this situation.

She frowned,. Something was off about her legs. They felt… different, as in one of them felt different than the other. She forced her eyes open, a dull room bathed in a faint darkness greeted her. She looked down. Her jeans only had one leg. The other cut off raggedly just below her thigh. Her first was covered in a bandage that wrapped from her ankle to her knee. In several case, it has doubled with a second bandage strapped on top.

"I had to remove the leg in order to get to a wound. Sorry," contrary to it's words, the voice who spoke didn't sound all that sorry.

Slowly she moved her neck, despite its protests, and looked at the source. The speaker sat in a chair a few feet away. He was covered in darkness; she couldn't see him. Despite this, she knew who it was.

"Percy." She tried weakly, then coughed. He didn't move. Presumably he was just watching her. Then he leaned to the side, reaching out and grabbing a glass of water from the table to his right.

He leaned forward into the light and she could see his face. His features betrayed no emotion. His head stopped a foot away from hers. The two stared at each other, neither saying a word. Then, with great deliberation, Percy reached over and set the glass down on the bedside table. His eyes didn't move.

Unable to move her head further, Zoë looked at the glass. Trying her arm, she found it barely worked. It was in no shape to pick up a glass. Percy watched her struggle, his eyes fixed blankly on her.

Finally she stopped, her eyes returned to his. She glared at him, "Don't be a fucking jerk."

A smile flashed across his lips and then it was gone. He took the cup from the table and held it up under her mouth. With a bit of maneuvering an angle was found where she could take intermittent sips successfully. The cool water was a blessing on her throat, and the sharp pain that plagued it slowly receded.

She watched him as he stood to refill the glass. He moved silently, both verbally and physically. It was as if he was a ghost hovering over the ground.

He returned with another glass, setting it on the table before turning to look back at her.

"That help?" He asked.

Zoë nodded, though sluggishly. Her neck felt stiff, like someone had coated it with

plaster. Every movement felt struggled.

Percy seemed to notice. He reached out and put his hand on her collar bone. Two fingers pressing gently into the side of her neck. She winced.

He pulled away. "I've done the best I can, but you aren't in good shape. You'll need a real doctor. Someone who actually knows what the hell they're doing."

She nodded, then frowned. "Can't you-" she cleared her throat. "Can't you use water to heal others?"

Percy smiled slightly and stared at her a moment. Zoë shifted under the gaze.

Suddenly he spoke. "I know a woman. Good doc, clear sighted mortal. She can be trusted," Percy leaned back in the chair, stretching his arms. "Unfortunately, she's in east London. Did Olympus give you anyo contacts here?"

Zoë shook her head. "No. I'm on my own."

The demigod muttered something under his breath. "I'll take you to her. Thanks to those bastards I have to relocate anyway. He'll patch you up and I can get you a plane back to the states."

Zoë frowned, then winced as a sharp jab echoed from her cheek. "On my own? Percy, please. We need yo-."

She stopped as his face hardened. The deadpan expression back in the blink of an eye. He stood up and walked away from her. Her gaze followed him helplessly. He bend down beside the bed and pulled something from a bag. He then turned and started back towards her side. The light from the other room glinted off the object ominously. It was a gun.

Her breath caught as he stalked straight towards her. His expression revealed nothing, but she could see his hands whitening due to his grip on the weapon. He stopped by her side, she looked down at the gun. Then she looked back up. Though his face didn't change, she knew her expression was plain.

She could see her fear reflected in his eyes.

She saw nothing but turmoil in his. But she could still make out one thing very clearly.

He reached under the blanket and took her hand, pressing the gun into her palm firmly.

"I'll be back later," he muttered, throwing on his coat and stalking out the door.

Zoë's protests were met with no response as the door shut behind him. She sighed. Using her good arm she lifted herself into a sitting position. Through the window she watched as he jumped into his car and sped off.

For a moment she worried that he would not return. Then the fear was brushed aside. He had left most of his stuff in the room. And she still had enough faith in his character that she could at least hope he wouldn't just abandon her.

Not while she was still wounded anyway.

The lights from the freeway glinted through the windows as she eased herself back down. Percy's eyes were still ingrained in the forefront of her mind. She had made a mistake. By the way he was acting, she had allowed herself to act stupid.

Cursing quietly, she curled up slightly under the blankets. She shivered as the eyes appeared back in her mind.

They were so dead, and full of so much anger, _and so much pain_.

Her eyes slid shut as she tried to force herself to drift off. The freeway rumbled from behind her and lights flashed through the windows as she lay there.

Alone.

 **AN:**

 **Somewhat of a filler chapter to get me back on track I do apologize. Also it is, in fact, quite short. The next should be longer. In the following chapter you shall meet one of the next stars of the cast, and be thrilled as the relationship between them and one of our current heroes is...complicated.**

 **Thanks to you all for being so patient, and for understanding about my injury. I hope to get back to fairly regular updating, but in a tactical error I loaded up on advanced placement and honors classes this year and they are kicking my ass time wise. So expect irregular updating. Next I plan to update Son of the King and introduce a fairly long term character there as well. Her respect and Boys are Back in Town shall resume following. I've unfortunately thought about adopting The Picture as I really didn't know where I was going with it. But I shall further that idea another time.**

 **I would like to give a special shoutout to Plutosdaughter11 for taking the time to visit this miserable attempt at fiction and leaving a positively uplifting review. You know that feeling when someone cool like Tommy Emmanuel responds to an internet post or something like that. It's kind of a similar situation, except I doubt Pluto11 is a sixty year old man.**

 **Please read, rate, review, favorite, and follow if you enjoyed it. And if you didn't, go watch the entire series of Keeping Up With the Kardashians with your eyes glued open because that is a hell only reality television can dare to dream up.**

 **Until next time this is Hemlock Stones signing off.**


	9. Mary Blake

**AN:**

 **Read**

 **/AN:**

* * *

Zoë Nightshade recognized the steady rhythm of an automobile beneath her before she even opened her eyes. The pressure of the seatbelt around her stomach and the slight angle at which she was lying told her, after much cognitive effort, that she was in the front passenger seat which had been tilted back to accommodate her state.

She found it difficult to move. Her body was stiff and the seat belt strapped across her front was doing her no assistance in that department.

There was music playing from the radio. _SRV._ The name dropped into her head from who knows where. Perhaps it was the way that the guitar on the track sounded like it was being played within an inch of it's life. It certainly wasn't because of the words ' _Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble - Live at Carnegie Hall - Pride and Joy' _scrolling gently across the dashboard of the car. No, in order for that to be the case, she would have to have been able to actually see them.

Her eyes opened. Rain was cascading down the front windshield of the car, creating interesting patterns that could entertain the young and the old for entire seconds. A car sped past them on the next lane over. A pool of water was tossed up into the car and splattered gently against her side window.

After a moment the volume of the music decreased. She carefully turned her head to the right. Percy Jackson glanced at her before returning his gaze to the road. The wipers flicked away at the water in front of him.

"We're on the M25, just outside London," he said. "It's nearly seven o'clock.

Zoë heard the words as if they were spoken through cotton. She frowned a moment. "Seven," she murmured lazily.

"P.M."

Zoë rolled her head. Outside a flash of lightning briefly coated the world wit illumination and then it was gone. The light had gone with it.

"'S dark." She said. The small part of her brain that was functioning winced. That had sounded _so_ pathetic.

"'S raining," Percy responded, not a note of condescension in his voice. "'S also very cloudy, cause 'S raining."

Zoë was silent a few moments. The only sound was the rain and the road rumbling beneath them. Percy glanced at her. Surely she hadn't already fallen back asleep.

"Asshole." _Well that answers that question._

Despite himself, Percy let out a bark of laughter. Zoë seemed to have, if it was even possible, slunk further back into her seat.

"You should stop talking," he said to her. "You're dosed up in triplicate with morphine."

Aha. Zoë thought through this slowly. That perhaps was why she felt extremely drunk, but not in a pleasant way. The effects of mortal medicine on someone with even partially immortal blood could vary. Someone might not notice the side effects at all, and another would be bedridden by ibuprofen.

There was a lot she wanted to ask, and certainly what she did not want to do was go to sleep; however, keeping her eyes open was a struggle. In fact, there was a dull pain that had been growing slowly the longer she tried to look at anything.

A few moments later Percy heard her breathing even out. Despite her relatively peaceful state she looked terrible. Her skin was a sicky pale and her forehead was drenched in sweat. His cool demeanor while talking to her had been utterly forced. Inside he was a whirlwind of emotion. He did not yet know exactly how he felt about the whole situation but at the moment that didn't matter. She had gotten worse as the day had dragged on, and Percy was increasingly starting to fear that some form of poison had been inflicted by the beast the night before.

It certainly did not aid his fears that he wasn't feeling so good himself. Nor did the reminder of what happened the last time she had suffered a venomous wound in his presence.

He batted the thought aside. Worrying in such a manner would do her no help at present. He concentrated on the road in front of him. They were perhaps a half an hour from their destination. Their arrival would cause a whole host of problems, but Percy was at least mostly confident that most could be sorted out given the circumstances of his visit. He just had to pray that Mary would be willing to take them in. If not, he wasn't quite sure if there was anywhere they could go that was safe.

Beside him Zoë shifted in her sleep. Tensing slightly when she moved something the wrong way. Percy shook his head. Olympus was foolish. They sent ne operative on a lone mission where they clearly did not know what to expect. It didn't matter if they had tw thousand years of experience. The world still will change at the same rate, and new things will arise that veterans may not be able to handle.

A cold chill raced down his spine. The beast they had fought that night had nearly killed them both, it had only been a violent rage that had saved their lives.

A collection of tears sprung to his eyes as he thought of old man Toolan but his thought process was racing ahead too quickly to be stopped. That single entity had nearly killed a veteran demigod and an extremely veteran huntress and demititan. High commands and generals were not sent on field missions. That meant this thing was a pawn.

No...no. It couldn't have been. Percy shook his head. It was far too powerful. Agents do exist, he reminded himself. The creature could have been an experienced operative.

Percy Jackson very quickly found that this second thought really didn't make him feel all that much safer.

He stared out the front windshield into the rain. The pattering off of the bonnet lulled him into a slight daze. Then some asshole behind him honked and he was snapped from it.

He moved the saloon forward. Thumb and index finger rubbed at the corner of each eye. He had gotten almost no sleep the previous night and it was a time when his body really needed it. The after effects were really starting to show.

He checked the road signs as he passed. His previous estimate had been wrong. From their present location it would most likely be only fifteen minutes to Mary's.

He sighed to himself. The stop would without a doubt be something they both needed. A vital recharge from the events that had occurred over the past twelve or so hours. What Percy didn't know was if he had the energy to steer them through the rest of the night. Perhaps all would work out well.

Then again, in the world of Greeks and Romans, it hardly ever did.

* * *

Zoë dreamed that she was surrounded by dwarves in jam jars, and they all were shouting her name. She assumed it didn't mean much of anything.

She felt like she was on a ship. The world swung back and forth around her, and there wasn't a moment where she didn't feel nauseous. Her mind was stuck somewhere between sleep and consciousness. She couldn't see anything since her eyes were shut, but sometimes she could hear things. She recognized the deep base of Percy's voice. At times it would vibrate strongly against her and she would know that he was carrying her. This only happened a couple of times.

For the majority of what she sensed she was lying down. It felt like whatever it was that was beneath her was trying to drag her down and suffocate her within it. Voices echoed a long way off. There was… a man's, that was Perseus, and there was a woman's.

At one point it sounded like they were arguing. She was able to hear it distinctly because out of everything that happened it was the only one that grabbed her attention. It sounded as if the conversation had been going on for some time when she had picked it up, but what she heard went something like this:

" _-eal bad. Internal bleeding, scarring. Definitely some blunt force trauma-"_

" _Then why isn't she awake."_

 _There was a sigh. "Percy, she's hurt real bad. There's poison in her system. This.. fucking… 'board with rusty nails in it' did damage. I can only operate to fix some shit. The rest takes time. I don't even know if she'll pull through."_

 _Someone slammed down something hard. "We don't have any fucking time! You better do something right for once 'doctor' or I swear on the river styx that if she dies I-I...I'll..."_

 _The voice trailed, and there was silence after that. It lasted a long time. Too long._

 _Then there was a small sob._

" _Mary, I-"_

 _The response was too quiet for her to hear, even with her especially acute hearing. She was aware of the two moving and then stillness._

" _Fuck you Perseus Jackson." The voice was punctured, and what did come out was shaky. The woman was crying. "Please, get out."_

" _Mary-"_

" _Get out."_

 _A door opened and then was shut again. Footsteps echoed in the outer room and then stopped as a body slumped down against a wall._

Though Zoë didn't know it, that had only been twenty minutes ago.

The door to her room opened. The person who entered made no effort to be quiet in shutting the door. Zoë could hear a slight hiccuping in the breathing followed by a sniff. The woman leaned against the door and cried silently a moment longer before she made her way to Zoë's bed.

She grabbed her arm and suddenly a pressure she hadn't been aware of was alleviated. Something stabbed her wrist and then another pressure joined it as something wrapped from her hand to her elbow.

Someone felt her forehead and a moment later a damp cloth was laid on top of it. Then someone gently grasped each side of her head. A thumb pressed into each of her temples.

"Sleep." A voice whispered. Suddenly the pressure increased and Zoë let out a small whimper while everything went silent.

* * *

It was some time before Zoë was aware of anything again.

It was a strange sensation. All of her senses seemed to zero in on her from the end of a long, thin tunnel. They hit simultaneously, making her body seize before slowly relaxing.

She was still in the bed she had felt earlier. The sensation of sinking in quicksand had not left. She could still feel the needle in her left wrist from earlier. And, as she had surmised, felt the familiar cylindrical tug of the gauze bandage wrapped tightly her forearm.

A pair of footsteps approached the bed as Zoë's eyes fluttered open. The harsh light that greeted her resulted in an arm flying up to block out her surroundings. She pressed her eyelids tight and groaned in discomfort.

"You're awake." The voice was noncommittal. It was a simple statement that invited neither reply nor retort. "How do you feel?"

Zoë didn't reply immediately. Slowly she sat up, her eyes still shut. The muscles of her back screamed in protest until she leaned back against her pillow. Slowly she let her eyes open and scan the room around her. It took a moment for her sight to focus in on anything, and she blinked rapidly to clear the blurred lines from her vision.

A young woman sat in a wicker chair by the left of her bed. Behind her was a window, curtains drawn but still the dim light from the streetlamps she could see outside floated through. The room was simple enough in design. She lay on a bed with a medical contraption hooked up to her from the right. The door lay on the opposite wall and was tightly shut. Next to it, in alignment with the bed, was a chest of drawers. On top of it were two lamps, a small selection of books… and her clothes?

Zoë looked down. Instead of the jeans and white short sleeved shirt she had put on back at the hotel, she was wearing what appeared to be a pair of loose pajamas. Mostly black, they appeared to have a pale paisley pattern sewn into them. They were in fact quite comfortable and very warm, but this bonus was pushed aside by an emotion of confused (and slightly embarrassed) irritation.

"Sorry, but I thought you'd be in less pain if you were wearing something looser and softer, so I changed you into...um...that."

As Zoë's head whipped around to meet the woman on her left, the growl died in her throat. Yelling at someone for being well meaning was hardly a way to greet them, especially for the first time.

The woman smiled wanly. "I didn't mean to make to make you uncomfortable. I'm sorry. Don't worry, I changed you, it wasn't...Percy."

It was Zoë's luck that her years as an agent of Olympus and her time accustoming to the modern world had worn inter her brain enough to prevent the fiery blush and stuttering, angry protests that probably would have come at the thought of a boy changing her a few years ago. Instead the blush flared only in her mind though it lingered far longer than she would have liked.

"You don't have to apologize," Zoë assured her and then gestured to herself. "Thank you. I am very much in your debt.

The woman chuckled. "Of course. It's my job. I already know your name cause Percy must have mentioned it a half dozen times. Don't know if you know mine. It's Mary."

"It's good to meet you, Mary." Zoë looked the girl up and down. The term girl wasn't completely accurate though. Physically she was older than Zoë was. Looking at her face Zoë would have to guess she was somewhere around Percy's age. Twenty seven or twenty eight.

The second thought that came was more analytical. Zoë would have had no hesitation in saying that Mary would have without a doubt be a stunningly beautiful woman after a long shower and a full night's sleep. Her youthful features were marred by deep circles under her her eyes, which sat permanently in the tone of a dull green. Her hair, which Zoë had perceived to be black at first glance, was in fact a dark brown. It tumbled down past her face and, based on its length in the front, probably fell between her shoulder blades in the back. Overall, the kind of girl that Zoë would feel proud to introduce to a few of her friends that were inclined in a feminine direction.

"But don't try to guess my weight. You'll have no help from me there." The young woman tried to smile. It was a decent smile, it just didn't reach anywhere except her lips. Zoë felt a pang of empathy for her.

A padding from outside her door cause the two women to look towards the exit. There was a delay of action when the feet reached the door. A couple of moments passed before someone cursed. It sounded like a 'damn.'

The door peeked open, then a boot kicked at the bottom to send it to a more ideal place, e.g. inside. Percy entered the room backwards, carrying a tray. A few medicine bottles crowded the left side, and on the right sat a plate of food. Water sloshed in a glass that was dangerously close to tumbling off the edge and shattering on the wood floor. No doubt something that would have made the contractors who build it quite cross with them.

He turned to face her and his eyes widened. He hurried to the side table to place the tray. A strong aroma of eggs drifted up for Zoë to 'taste.' Percy looked at her and exhaled. He looked as if the world had just been taken off of his shoulders again. If Zoë wasn't so averse to feeling hopeful, she would have sworn she saw a smile flicker across his face.

"You're awake. Good." And that seemed to be that. He sat down on the edge of her bed, careful not to crush her foot. In the chair, Mary shifted slightly. A hand moved to rest on her right leg.

"How do you feel?" asked Mary.

"Like you look?" added Percy. That comment got him two glares.

"I feel like I have a hangover, except it's everywhere." Zoë groaned. "Should fingernails ache?"

Mary chuckled. "You're probably coming down off of the painkiller. You won't feel great for a while, but you'll be up and walking around by tonight.

Zoë was genuinely astonished. The hospitals on Olympus didn't work this fast, and it wasn't as if their stupid modern safety codes that were slowing them down...much. For her response she settled for safely challenging. "You're joking."

The young woman shook her head. "No, I'm not." She glanced at Percy, who gave a noncommittal shrug, before continuing. "You see, I work differently than Olympus. For one I actually believe in getting patients better as soon as possible. And I don't believe in paperwork. So none of that takes time. Plus, well…someone patched you up pretty good before I went in to fix all the problems."

Zoë glanced at Percy. Percy very pointedly did not glance back.

She looked back at the doctor. "Will there be anything that I need to worry about?"

"Not that I can think of. Just remember to take some doses of ambrosia when you can.

It will just speed everything up."

"Ah." Zoë nodded. No one picked up the conversation from there. For the first time Zoë truly noticed how awkward the atmosphere of the room was. The tension between Percy and Mary was palpable, and Zoë wasn't quite sure what to do about it. _Ha,_ Zoë laughed with a grim mirth, _I can flip and split a hellhound in one move but when it comes to heart to heart, I'm bloody useless._

It was Percy who spoke at last. "Mary is gonna let us stay here for a few days. She has a spare room and a couple of mattresses we can take. Don't worry, hardly anyone has bled on them." He stopped speaking. There was a sigh and he rubbed his eyes tiredly. Zoë would hazard to say he looked worse than Mary in terms of fatigue. "I'm gonna take you across the channel to France. Then in Switzerland I can get you to a safe house where you can call base. You can get back home from there."

There was much that Zoë wanted to add and protest, but one glance at the two in the room stopped her. Percy looked stressed and exhausted. Mary looked that and depressed. Ten years ago? Zoë would have pressed without a thought. Now? She felt bad thinking about pushing them. More so Percy than Mary, there was just more guilt there.

A question bobbed to the surface of her mind. She used her good leg to tap Percy, who had completely zoned out in a matter of a few seconds. "How will we get across the channel?"

Zoë didn't miss how Mary's expression suddenly hardened thereafter. Nor did she miss how Percy's gaze flicked over to her.

"That's...still being worked out. Look, you don't need to worry about it." He slid off of the bed and walked up to her, resting his hand on her shoulder. "You just eat and get some rest. I'll talk to you later."

She held his gaze for a few seconds before nodding. "Yeah. Thanks Percy."

There was that flash of a smile again. His hand slid off her shoulder and in a flash she grabbed his wrist. There was an awkward moment when he tried to continue before realizing he had been halted.

Then Zoë shook her head and let go. "Never mind. I'll mention it later."

His eyes narrowed in confusion but he let it go. Crossing the room in a couple seconds he threw the door back open and stepped out. The door snapped shut behind him.

Mary stared at her lap. Her fingers danced nervously. The moment Percy had left the room, she had slumped. If Zoë thought she could stand she honestly might have given the woman a comforting hug.

"I-I'll let you eat." Mary stood suddenly, standing up. She bustled out of the room not meeting the huntress' eyes.

"Hey, Mary." Zoë's voice halted the doctor in her tracks. She stood in the now open doorway with one hand resting against the frame. Her head turned slightly back.

Zoë pursed her lips. "Something happened. Between you and Percy, something happened didn't it.

The woman's entire body locked up. Zoë didn't need to see her eyes to know how Mary felt. The huntress had been right.

"Yeah."

Zoë felt for the woman. "I'm sorry."

It felt like an age before Mary responded. When she did, her voice came out soft, almost inaudible. "Me too... Me too." And she left without another word.

* * *

 **AN:  
**

 **Hey, look who updated quickly. This guy. The one with two thumbs and a red carnation.**

 **I recently updated Son of the King as well because I realized I hadn't done that in awhile. I don't really care much about my other two stories at the moment. If I get enough people asking I'll probably post an update but otherwise I'm willing to let those sit while I make progress on these two.**

 **Enter the Mary. Finally, another main character. I'm sure I'll be getting people telling me what I should do wit her and how I should make her act. Now of course I appreciate and in fact encourage feedback, but no promises. It's still my character.**

 **Not much else to say for this chapter. Thank you guys for being patient with me. I can be rather irritating when it comes to deadlines. I am just too attached to the sound they make as the whizz by.**

 **Until next time, this is Hemlock Stones signing off.**

 **/AN:**


	10. The Crossroads

**AN:**

 **Yeah, yeah, long time since I updated and all that shit, but I apologize for not particularly caring. I didn't like I could produce anything worthwhile in that time so I didn't. It's as simple as that.**

 **Now, read on.**

 **/AN:**

* * *

Despite the uncomfortable nature of the circumstances, Zoë found herself quite content with the progression of the day. Mary returned several times throughout the day to inquire as to what the young huntress may desire, and furthermore to return with such requested items. Percy had also been kind enough to drop off a bag of books he presumably salvaged from his apartment for her to thumb through and read. She was, for a majority of the day, deeply engrossed in _A Confederacy of Dunces_ and loving every moment of it.

At periodic intervals Zoë would attempt to stand up, using the side of her bed as a support. Sometime by the midday she was able to stand on her own. Then she made the mistake of attempting to step forward.

A few minutes later Percy was helping her off the ground and dabbing at her chin with a damp washcloth. Zoë herself was silent, fuming actively.

 _Shit._

Zoë growled in frustration, her forearms stinging and her legs burning with a fiery passion of pain. At least she hadn't cracked her chin this time.

She pushed herself off of the floor, looking back up at the bed she sighed. She felt useless. She hated feeling useless. The desk clock on the other side of the bed chirped happily at her. Five beeps occurred before silence followed.

She sat on the edge of the bed a few moments later, her feet dangling uselessly off of the side. Zoë let out a dejected sigh and lay back on the bed.

Almost immediately someone knocked upon the door. They were sharp and slow.

"Come in, Percy." Zoë didn't move from her prone position upon the blankets.

She heard the son of Poseidon approach her. A shadow crossed her face as he stepped between her and the window.

"Didn't crack your chin this time?"

Zoë sighed and glanced a twinge despondently up towards him. "No."

Percy followed her secondary gaze and leaned down. Using one arm he cupped her back, which caused her to wince slightly, and helped her slide back to the pillow at the head of the mattress. As she lay back and closed her eyes he slid a chair over and took a seat.

"I haven't seen Mary much today," said the huntress.

She was aware of a subtly uncomfortable shift in the atmosphere from the man on her left. She let one of her eyes drift upen and caught him staring at the side of the bed frame with his lips pursed.

"She's . . . got a lot on her mind," his words came out carefully, like a man treading an amount of ice equal to the energy that he contained at the present time.

Zoë bit her lip. There was so much she was just not going to ask. The only people more tired than herself perhaps in the whole demigod world were the two of them. And what Mary had said in the early hours of the morning. . .

The woman shook away her thoughts. "Where do we go from here, Percy?"

Percy smiled wanly. "You don't mean our next destination do you." He sighed when she shook her head and ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't know." He admitted. "I'm getting you back to the states I know that. I've got to go somewhere else. Asia maybe."  
"You don't-" but Zoë stopped herself again. _Not the time yet,_ she reminded her conscience, though her sense of duty rebelled futilely against her thoughts. "I just said not physically."

"Then I truly don't know." Percy's eyes looked dull. "It sounds like you might have a war on. I'm not cut out for that shit anymore." With his left hand he tapped on his leg restlessly, and the huntress recognized the sort of movement that it was. The two of them had both seen the horror of the past night. Zoë didn't blame him for his restlessness. Instead she felt an unfamiliar pang. She squashed it nervously.

"Do we even have any way to get off of the isles?" As far as Zoë knew, they had an old shitty car and that was the extent of their resources. She wasn't even wearing proper clothes, though she could have been. They were just black pajamas. Talk about lacking presence.

The atmosphere was instantly uncomfortable for the second time in their interaction. Percy went silent, staring at nothing.

"Percy?" Zoë tried hesitantly. He didn't react. At least, not instantly. He was still sluggish in his processing when he wanted to be,

Then he stood down and slid her down off of the pillow, helping her rest her head back lower down. The covers below were slid up her body and he gently pushed her back down when she tried to sit back up. "It's something Mary and I need . . . well . . . we might need a bit of time to work out."

' _Did something happen between you and Percy?'_ Zoë remembered the doctor's words and connected the dots all too well.

"Anyway, you just lay here and rest and work on getting better." He lay a hand on her arm and nodded. "Ok?"

Zoë opened her mouth but something didn't feel right. She looked down at Percy's hand on her bare skin. It felt . . . odd. Something wasn't consistent.

Her eyes widened and her heart sank with concern. "Percy?" She said hesitantly. "Percy, what's wrong?"

His eyes met hers, confused. "What?"

She grabbed his left hand in her right. Her fingers coated his and gripped softly. The tremolo was even more noticeable then. "Percy, what's wrong with your hand.

She gasped as he retracted as if he'd been bitten by a viper. He glanced quickly at his hand before shoving it roughly into his pocket. "There's nothing wrong." He growled. His eyes shone a fear to her that only increased her worry twofold.

"There's nothing wrong," he repeated at a mutter and backed away to the door. "Just rest." The door flew open and despite the huntresses protests he rushed out and slammed it shut behind him. She could hear his frantic footsteps all the way down the hall. Three words echoed in her mind from years past.

" _Please . . . don't leave."_

Zoë cursed and buried her face in her hands. _Just one exchange . . . just one fucking exchange, and I couldn't even get that fucking right._ As she drifted off to sleep she was ashamed to feel the light tickle of a triad of tears that rolled down her face

* * *

Percy ignored Zoë's protest, exiting the room as fast as he could. He brought his hands up level with his eyes. They did waver. Slightly, as the case may be, however the movement was still there. A steady back and forth rhythm sent jitters up his arm. He broke into a run.

Mary yelped and threw herself back against the wall as he stormed past but he paid her no mind. The steps thundered under his tread, all except for the final three which he lept from and raced to his bag in the spare room downstairs at the end of a long corridor.

The door slammed shut behind him and he skidded on his knees on the floor to the bed. His hands had worsened, and it was because of this that it took some effort to wrench open the zipper of the duffle bag that held his medicine kit. Finally the pull gave and he threw open the gray bag to yank out the vibrant red emergency box inside.

Supply after supply hit the floor. He threw a couple of bags across the room that were of no use to him at the present time. Then a glass bottle and a syringe fell onto the floor.

He picked them up shakily and twisted off the cap. Inside, an unearthly pale blue sloshed

and slid around the walls of the bottle. It glowed faintly in the darkness. He stuck the end of the needle into it and drew back, watching as the substance drew up with his pull.

Once it filled he flicked the glass, and then, gritting his teeth, he shoved the needle into his bicep and pushed down on the other end of the syringe.

He couldn't stop the involuntary shiver as the ice-cold liquid nearly froze his veins. His hands stopped shaking. The syringe clattered to the floor followed by the bottle, which bounced and rolled under the bed.

Carefully, Percy stood up. His legs felt strange under him, but he knew how to deal with that now. Let the muscles lax, let the body stumble, allow the knees to hit the bed, and fall peacefully over backwards.

His eyes stared up at the ceiling for a full three minutes after he had drifted off into sleep.

* * *

Zoë was jerked back to the realm of the awake and alive by a soft knocking on her door. She rubbed her eyes and glanced left to her window. A faint light of orange hue trickled through the weave of the curtains casting dull shadows across the floor of her room.

She sat up slowly. Her muscles and joints ached with every movement but it felt less stiff from before. A smile crept slowly onto her face as she flexed each of her arms without a jab of pain beyond which she could ignore.

The knock came again and Zoë shivered as her bare feet made contact with the hardwood floor chilled by the radiator beside the head of her bed. A few shaky steps was all it to motivate her to take more confident strides and was inconsequentially pleased with herself when she reached the door.

She threw it open to reveal Mary standing in the passageway. The doctor eyed over the huntress stunned, her dim eyes wide and her lips parted slightly.

"My," she said, "you repair fast."

Zoë demurred, "I've had more than enough practice." Her head cocked sideways and she leaned against the doorframe. "Anyway, what brings you here?"

"Well, I routinely check in on all of my patients in the evening," said Mary, "But I'd also come up here to check if you'd like to go get a drink or something." Her next words were less sure than those of her previous statement and her frame owed slightly. "I think there's a bit we need to talk about."

Zoë tested the strength of her legs. Finding them satisfactory she nodded. "That sounds like a good plan. I just hope you're not hoping it leads anywhere!" She winked teasingly, but within the privacy of her mind she paled horribly. _Dear gods, what has Thalia done to me?_

Mary sputtered an embarrassed protest before Zoë decided to take pity on the woman and return to her room to change into more appropriate attire.

Jeans, a white sweater, and a pair of brown trainers later the two stepped out of the front of the local hospital. Mary turned back to work shut the old fiddly locks that never quite worked properly.

"Is Percy not coming with us?" Zoë asked, and once again noticed the slight flinch Mary experienced at the mentioning of the demigod's name.

"Erm . . . no," she jerked her arm right and felt the lock slide wheezing into place. The two women began walking as she continued. "He's locked himself in his room and he didn't respond when I called to him."

Zoë felt a chill go down her spine that she was sure had nothing to do with the light breeze that caressed them along the local main drag. She dismissed it although nervously. Percy was fine. Percy had no reason not to be fine. Repeating those thoughts to herself did calm her, but it didn't quite shake the feeling.

Mary led the two of them to the Source. The old pub was rickety in construction and was labeled with a wooden post chained to a post above the door. It made soft jingling intonations as it swung in the breeze. Walking past a young couple stepping with a gait far to unsteady than could be considered safe or practical, the two women entered the bar and sidled there way up to the counter.

Zoë ordered a Bianchello del Metauro on offhand hope, and was frankly astonished and delighted to find the drink somehow in their stores. The young doctor accompanying her went considerably simpler and just ordered a Guinness beer. They clinked their glasses together, Mary gave a traditional scottish toast and the pair had downed half of their glasses in a few seconds.

The veteran huntress sighed to herself with her first few sips. She had missed the fine wines of Italy in the United States. It was an enjoyable surprise to receive one in England.

It quickly became apparent that Mary was drinking far more than Zoë planned to. The drinks kept coming to her and as they arrived she became more and more unraveled.

Zoë slipped the bartender a five pound note to cut her off after what she believed to be too much. This did not bode well for the doctor and it was at this point the misery struck.

Their conversation had been relatively light and amusing for the majority of their time, swapping jokes with Zoë sharing the odd story from her travels. The minute the last drink was empty though Mary flipped on a dime.

Zoë moved her to a booth to allow her to sit down out of the way of the crowd. There Zoë sat beside her and let the woman revel in her own personal hell for a handful of minutes before returning her to her offices.

"Percy was my world. . ." Zoë had to pause for a moment after those words were said to make sure she had heard them. They were uttered so softly and so tiredly she had difficulty in even making them out to begin with.

On the bench she noticed Mary had tears in her eyes. She hiccuped slightly. "He . . .meant everything to me. . ."

A comforting hand rested on the young doctor's shoulder. Zoë gazed at her sadly. In her mind a missing piece to her latest puzzle fell neatly into place. Right into the spot she had left deliberately open for it.

"You loved him." Zoë stated it as opposed to queried it, and felt an empathetic tug in her heart when Mary nodded.

She spilled out all sorts of incoherent things after that. To Zoë most seemed to be rambling. She mentioned names she had never heard of. She also mentioned Percy's a lot. They had met in a bar. They had grown close. They pursued a relationship. The other people were merely there in the background. Zoë listened with one ear and focused her attention inward to her mind. There was certainly a lot she was going to have to ask Percy.

There was one thing that Mary said that caught Zoë's attention. It was enough to pull her from her musings and wonderings about the future and make her suddenly think in a whole new direction.

"He lied to me. I trusted him and he had lied to me so much. So much, Zoë. . ."

The huntress didn't respond. She sat in silence unsure how to proceed. Her people skills were still in development and the last thing she wanted to do was make things worse.

The two women sat there in the smoky room listening to cars rumble past outside and a crowd of Irish bikers throwing darts and engaging in snooker.

Fifteen minutes later someone busted in.

He ran up to the barkeep. There was a hurried conversation and slowly the hubbub of the room around it died and the man's rapid words were heard clearly.

"There's a fire," he was saying, "A fire at the hospital." And Zoë went cold.

Suddenly Mary shot up as if sobered. The look in her eyes would keep Zoë awake on lonely nights for years after. The doctor rushed the man nearly pinning to the wall. Her mouth opened and closed, her eyes wide with horror.

And then she ran for the door.

Zoë followed her quickly, and the throng of the pub stormed out afterwards. Mary was already flickering in the distance in the eyes of the mortals but to Zoë she was clear as day.

The hospital came into view in one brutal moment and Mary jerked to a stop. Zoë slowed beside her and the two stood bathed in firelight.

The entire central hub was in flames as well as the east wing. Only the west stood standing and even that was beginning to be subject to the licking flames as well. Part of the roof had collapsed inward and the walls bore holes used by the fire brigade to break into the building. As they stood and watched the entire east wing suddenly creaked and fell, kicking up a cloud of dust and debris among a horrendous shrieking noise. And above it cutting wildly through the night was the anguished scream of a young woman in a dying dream.

A moment later though something occurred to cause Zoë's hear to soar. Storming out through the smoky chasam, carrying a body over his shoulder and another spread between himself and another man, was Percy Jackson. His shirt was zinged with small burns but he looked otherwise unhurt. The man was laid down next to several other figures and immediately fussed over by various bystanders with wet towels.

"Percy!" Zoë called to him, keeping a hand firmly on Mary's shoulder. He turned to look at her and immediately rushed over. Some of the crowd had already begun to disperse as with the arrival of a second brigade vehicle and and two ambulances the worst seemed to be over.

"Mary! Zoë!" The relief in his voice was palpable and he seemingly without thinking swept the two of them close to his chest and held them tightly with each arm.

Zoë was stunned for a moment but responded likewise, but noticed Mary hung nearly limp in his arms.

He let them go, coughing into his elbow he took a step back and his expression, reset into an angry deadpan, told them not to speak of the moment that occurred. "The fire started ten minutes ago. A blast of heat energy tore through one of the windows downstairs and immediately engulfed the whole main lobby. There was nothing I could do." He looked helplessly at Mary.

Zoë felt the chill from earlier return. A hand lightly covered her mouth and she took a deep breath. They weren't safe in London. They were never safe in London. Her boring gaze managed to pull Percy's eyes away from Mary for them to meet hers for just a moment. She saw here fear shared in him. Whatever had attacked them in Marlborough had decided to strike again. But this time the price for their failure was steep.

"What- what about the patients?!" Mary stuttered, her tone wrenching. "What happened? Where are they!?"

Percy couldn't meet her eyes. "Mary. . ."

"No!" The doctor shook her head, her lip trembling. "Don't you Mary me, Perseus Jackson. What happened to the people inside!?"

The demigod looked solemnly back at the fire. We got some out when the flames started. It was just me and some guys who ran in to help. But. . ."

Mary didn't wait for him to refind his vocabulary. She pushed passed dazedly, staring at the wreckage of her office and home.

Zoë's eyes glazed over and she felt moisture prick at their corners as she watched the scene unfold. Percy was calling out Mary's name but she didn't seem to be listening. He kept walking slowly towards the building as if she was in a trance, drawn to the horrible tragedy of her loss like a trainwreck one can just not cease to observe.

"Mary! Mary we have to go. It's not safe here anymore, we have to get the hell out of here. Mary!"

Percy and Zoë watched from the sidelines as Mary sunk to her knees among the rubble, put her head in her hands, and began to weep.

* * *

 **AN:**

 **Greetings loyal readers who somehow decided to wait around for me to return. As you can see I have finally posted an update that I hope will appease your hunger for plot points. Some big things happened. All I shall reveal for the future is this event is what prompts Percy to accompany Zoe further in her travels within the story, oh yes and Mary comes with them as well.**

 **Next stop shall be the continent, where the ever elusive Von Lipvig is sure to make an appearance. Look out for him and hold your pockets shut when he walks past.**

 **Please read, rate, review, favorite, and follow if you enjoyed this chapter. If not? Well I can't really tell you to go do something insulting because I did let the ball drop on the update schedule so I have no right to act haughty.**

 **Until next time, this is Hemlock Stones signing off.**


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